A distant tugging at my soul and here I am alone for all the world to see. Fine that was just random word strung together to make something. But this is my blog and I can write what I want, though slowly this is starting to mean nothing to me since all of this is the same that it was a week ago, a month ago, a year ago. Nothing ever changes. For example, yet another senior rep. possistion opened and just like a month ago and eight months ago and ten months ago I'm going to apply for it. And just like happened last time, and the time before and the time before that, I'll come this close *hold fingers* but not quite there. How many times does this have to happen before I finally give up? And what do I mean by give up? I don't know anymore, all I know is that something got to give soon. Either I get the job and my routine is broken, or I don't get the job and my routine isn't broken, in which case I'll probably do something drastic that I'll regret, or maybe I won't. Maybe I really am a bi-polar schizophrenic sociopath. Maybe I'm just a product of mental illness, and if this were true, I cannot be held responsible for any actions. Imagine the possibilities.

So my mother calls me last night freaked out over me being potentially bi-polar, since when does that bitch have a right to give a fuck about me? Wow, where did that come from? I don't know, but let's go with it. Actually let's not, I'm just so tired of being so stressed, so angry and depressed, and now this will take an extraordinary amount of effort to fix, not to mention money. My mom acted really strange last night, like she was talking down to me and pretending to care now that she realizes that something real might be wrong with me, even though she's always treated me like shit. I repeat, what gives her the right to give a fuck about me now after all that she's put me through. She was never there for me growing up, we were always so fucking poor. I didn't even ask for graduation picture, or year books, I was embarrassed asking for graduation ware. What am I doing here, I'm at the very edge of tears right now just because mommy didn't love me. Goddamn her for putting me through this. This is all her fault, just like every fucked up thing in my life, it's all her fault. I was fine with being bi-polar, my thought was I've always been like this, so now my life can finally start to get better. I've always been one to wallow in self pity, but I would never let people feel for me. I don't really want anybody to care. It's weird, I want people not to care, I say that all I want is for somebody to care, but when they do I get nervous and try to push them away. Like it's un-manly to need somebody to say it's going to be okay.

So my shrink tells me I may be bi-polar, manic depressive, or something like that. Which makes a lot of sense, every bad thing in my life can be categorized into manic or depressed. What I'm concerned about in this post is that if I'm always in some state of mania or depression, where is the real me? Does the real me actually exist or am I a merely a culmination of mental distress?

Do you ever wake up too depressed to get out of bed, do you still get out of bed or do you role over and spend the day crying, wallowing in self pity? Well I rolled out of bed this morning and 5:15 (Before dawn!) and even though I've been at work for almost two hours, I'm still fighting to keep back the tears for no good reason. Maybe it's just that last week was a week of constant rejection. I put myself out there no less than three times last week and nothing was successful, no promotion, A doesn't hate me but can never think of me as anything other than some guy from work, I mentioned interest in Cassie and she ignores me. There you go, the hat trick of rejection, I think this is a record even for me. But finally, one small, minute thing goes right for me. There was too much availability on the phones, and they picked me to take a half hour off (paid!). I know it isn't much, but when you're feeling as down as me, there's nowhere to go but up. On the bright side, well there really is no bright side, but 6 shots of espresso later and everything is tainted by caffeine. So smile the first day of the weekend is almost 1/4 over.

Hope is such a fleeting thing and every time I think it's dead, it just isn't. This weekend was filled with hope that by Monday morning was killed and is now just the dull ache of bitter disappointment in the corner of my soul. There is a long and boring explanation to all of this, along with feeling to go with all of it, but for now I'll give you the short:

Last week I thought for some reason that there might be something between me and a girl at work who happened to break up with her boyfriend. But I asked her out for a drink a couple of nights in a row, she seems to be busy most night. And if movies have taught me anything that when a girl is busy more than two nights in a row then they're not interested. So that ended civilly, not a big deal. I made it clear that I might be interested and she made it equally clear that she isn't without any embarrassing moments for either of us.

Then before that I had applied for a promotion, I didn't think I really had a chance, but I applied for it anyway trying desperately not to get my hopes up. But then get I get called into a meeting, I joked and asked if I was in trouble, they said no and that it's something positive. So for a few seconds I let myself believe that I got the job. And then, I didn't get the senior job. But as a compliment to Job Corps, my supervisor who has doing interviews for 15 years said that I had the best interview skills she's ever seen. Of course that doesn't make it any easier. They told me that it was "this close" *holds her fingers really close* between me and another person. But they said that to me last time. Who knows maybe in another 9 months, I can apply for another senior job and it'll be this close *holds fingers even closer*. So for now I just smile and accept the rejection yet again, and realize that life really doesn't have anything better in store for me.

So now we have two cases of hope, then rejection. And now the last, and maybe least bit of rejection. I jump online for a few minutes after work on Friday before loosing myself in a cloud of smoke and I see a girl from highschool online. I hadn't thought about her in months, but for some reason I was filled with more hope than I probably should have been, but maybe it's because I was still feeling a little rejected by the girl from work. Either way, I start thinking, maybe hanging out with her will be fun, I haven't been to Eugene for a couple of months etc. She even started talking about slightly less than professional stuff, i.e. smoking stuff and other adult activities. And then a boyfriend. Not a huge deal, but I always tend to think of the maybe, just maybies in life.

So there you have it, a weekend that was alternately the best weekend ever and the trip into despair and it all stems from that bitter seed hope.

Die hope. Die.

I just woke up from the most amazing dream. Where all my deepest desires came true. It wasn't a "wet" dream, it was more bliss in dream form. I've been trying to convince myself that I have no chance with that crush, and I know I don't now, I just need to accept it. But in my dream all of the reasons why it cannot be vanished. And it was just me, holding her in my arms, while she cried for everything that has gone bad in life. Let's try to hold that dream just a second or two longer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Now it's in my memory forever, but even as I write it, I'm embarrassed of it.

So I came to an epiphany last night in the middle of a haze of smoke. It occurred to me that I have never had any trouble making one or two good friends wherever I go, except for the cruise line job, but that was just my little trip to Hell. And the people that do get to know me almost always like me. But I also have a deep seeded fear of rejection. So to prevent people from getting to know the real me, I don't put up barriers like a normal person. That would be too easy. What I do is act like a completely different person around people when they get to close. I'm such an ass to people that get too close because I'd rather have them reject the fake me than the real me. I'm afraid of people seeing the real me and still hating me. I have such a pattern of that in life.

God I'm so sorry to all those people that tried to get to know and couldn't. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please forgive me. And if you don't, I understand I'm sorry God forgive me. This is my dominant feeling when I get home and I'm alone staring at these walls or this near-dead computer, I feel regret all the time. I ask the universe one more time for forgiveness, because I really am a nice guy, I'm sorry.

The highest of highs, followed by the lowest of lows. Hope and unexpected fortune give way to fear and despair. Confidence gives ways to cockiness gives way to nothingness.

You know what, fuck it. I need to embrace depression and rejection. The hard part is maintaining a fake smile for all the happy people when all I want to do is crawl into the hole and cry. For what it's worth, I have yet to be rejected by my almost secret crush. But on that end, I'm not getting my hopes up at all. Yet when has the ever worked. It seems the more I try to suppress hope the harder it hits me when it doesn't pan out. Maybe I'll go home tonight and embrace hope. Let my fantasies wander over to the absurd, dare myself to hope. And the purpose for that little exercise, a few minutes of bliss is always worth a few hours, days, weeks, years of pain and suffering.

I was telling somebody earlier today who was complaining about being lonely: At first it hurts, like nobody will ever love you again. Then after a while, when the loneliness just doesn't go away, you realize that it's true. You still have that deep seed of hope waiting to be given breath, but it gets buried deeper and deeper until for all you know it disappears or just dies. But it's still there waiting for a chance to poke it's ugly head, and when it does you try to kill it. But this little seed just won't die. You can bury it a little deeper each time. And who knows, maybe next time it won't find it's way back.

Leo July 23 - August 22
Daily Extended Forecast for November 22, 2006 Provided by Astrology.com Daily Teen Forecast Leo July 23 - August 22

The romance in your life will be greatly amplified today -- and whether or not you have a romantic partner is irrelevant. People will want to be as close to you as you let them, so try to take advantage of the closeness. Barriers between you and someone you know in an official or professional capacity are coming down, and you will get a nice glimpse of this person's great big heart. Make sure you let him or her know that you noticed this generous act.

Look at that horoscope, if ever a horoscope has been relevant this is it. But I think that I am going to hide one more time. Sure this could be my chance at something that I dare not hope for, but in the risk v.s. reward column it's definitely not worth it. Or more likely, I'm just scared. I know I have to conquer my fears, but something tells me this isn't the time. Of course my shrink says (or maybe I say, because he doesn't say much) that I shouldn't let past experiences of rejection prevent me from success now. Alas, instead of facing my fears for remotely obscure chance at success, I will run home and hide from the world. Maybe clean my house, watch some Frasier and have a couple of drinks. If anybody is reading this, I would love to know if any of this makes any sense at all, or even if it doesn't.

A friend/crush breaks up with their boyfriend, what do you do? What a great question. There's basically two options, and maybe only one. Or maybe none, just walk away and forget about it. There's no need to risk a friendship for something that at best, well let's not think about at best, but at worst I could loose a friendship, make it awkward at work etc. Actually now that I'm writing this, I realize . . . Nothing. I had the very faintest grasp and what could have been, the solution to my problem. And even now it's at the front of my sub-conscience, but I'm willing it away. Well I guess I should deal with it, shouldn't I. What I want to do is . . . wow that's what I'm afraid of. This is ridiculous, I've known this friend/crush for just over a year, but we've only hung out outside of work twice, both times with her now ex-boyfriend. The fact that I think that I just might have a chance at something more is absurd. The only thing that causes me some reluctance is back in Junior or Senior year my then friend/crush broke up with her boyfriend of forever and I did the respectful thing. I tried to support her, listened etc. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, we stayed friends. But later, after highschool, I get an e-mail from her saying that she wanted me to make a move on her then, and when I didn't she thought I wasn't interested. So I ask you faithful reader(s) is there any good answer to this most ancient of fables. My guess is no, I'll let you know how it goes.

Bring Back OJ!!!

Fox has cancled the OJ Simpson interview where he talks about how he would have commited the infamous murders! I ask you fine readers, is this okay? Of course is isn't! We need to fight and send angry e-mails to Fox for canceling the show! Or at least air it somewhere, sometime! Join me and help me uncancle OJ!

Do you ever feel like you're on the edge of depression, but you don't know which side of the edge you're on? Are you ever filled with an undefined, yet desperate, longing for anything that will fill the void where your heart used to be? Do you sometimes gaze into that void, letting your mind wander over the boundless failures of past lives, searching for reason?

A good looking girl calls me "kid." Not to my face or anything, but "What's that kid's name?" Wow that hurts more than I ever thought it would. I remember very distinctly when I was first called a "guy." It made me feel like a real person. It was 8th grade walking home from the bus stop with people that walked my way. Talking to people who were not really people but blocks of clay, waiting for fate to mold them into whatever cruel shape the gods decide. But walking those three blocks, in the time when I was just beginning to realize how much the world hated me, a redhead girl named Misty, told me "you're such a guy." I remember filling with pride that somebody noticed me, but trying not to show it. I still have a special longing for redheads, maybe from that experience, maybe from my desire for something different.

I never realized how much my mother hated me. This is so hard for me to write because I don't want it to be real. Here's the story anyway: last week during my vacation I call my mom and talk to her for an hour or so, no big deal. We started talking about how she was such a great cook, and I say something like, wow I really miss your Potato Soup. Not a huge deal, right? She even invites me over for Thanksgiving. Then she tells my uncle later, and I'm not supposed to know this but who cares, that I was "trying to get invited to dinner" and that she'll be damned if I eat in her house. How fucked up is that? I mean I know my mom is an evil bitch, but I always thought she loved me. I guess not.

You know that phrase: A face only a mother can love, well apparently I'm not good enough for my mother's love. God I feel like crying. But I can't do that. Instead, I put on a smile and deal with my sickness, trying desperately to forget that I know that. And clinging desperately onto the secret hope that my uncle might be wrong, or manipulating me. But I know that's not true. If I can trust anybody in life, it's my uncle.

So I close with this question: What did I ever do that my mom stopped loving me? I know I was a bad child, adolescent, and teenager, but I thought mother's love was unconditional.

I guess not.

Blah, I don't feel like writing really, but maybe a five minute free write will help me resolve some of those unspoken issues. A couple of things have been on my mind: Am I drinking too much? Will the result of my therapy simply be: it's your parents fault. I know it's all my parents fault, but will that make me any more social? Will it help me accept rejection without feeling any emotion? Will it help me control my impulses? I don't know what this will do, but I know that it will take weekly sessions for 6 months at $40 a piece, that's $960 for results may be trivial? I know not much of an entry, but it something.

Once again I come to you conflicted between who I am and who I should be. What I want to be and what I really . . . fuck it. I'm pissed. I mean how much fucking ass do you have to kiss in the Hell in order to get ahead? They recently asked me to change my attitude and I did. I've worked hard on bottling my emotions, harder then I ever thought I should and they still give the extra work to newbies? I'm fine to do their grunt work, but they would never asks me to teach a class. Well they have, but apparently I'm not good enough. Why are they asking newbies to teach classes instead of me? All these people are getting ahead in this Hell the call work when I'm sitting in the corner doing fucking grunt work. Sometimes I swear that if I have to say "Thank you for calling customer service," one more time I'm going to explode. They ask me to bottle my emotions and I'm doing that, I'm even seeing a FUCKING shrink so I can learn the root of my "problem."

So I was reading post secret again, and I found this postcard. This coupled with a strange revelation that I had yesterday, made me realize how diminished my capacity for affection is. Growing up as the illegitimate step-child to a man that hated me, always on the outside. I never felt that I deserved affection. This revelation came from a mostly suppressed memory, of last Christmas. I spent hundreds of dollars on Christmas presents for everybody, especially my parents, still desperate for their approval. And what do I get? They get me a copy of "4o Year Old Virgin". I ask you this, loyal readers, how fucked up is that? I spend days and days shopping for my family and find near perfect presents. And I get a copy of "40 YEAR OLD VIRGIN!!!!" Alas, for all the effort I put into shopping last year, nobody puts the slightest bit of effort into getting me something so perfect that I didn't know I wanted it, but now I can't live without it.

So I wake up today with a potentially good attitude, and I had some coffee which I rarely do. I talk myself up in the middle of an empty apartment, and I say today is going to be a good day, I talk up my job to myself, and I tell myself that I life is good, and I appreciate all that I have. I realize in my feigned joy that my attitude at work has sucked, and if I don't change it, I'm going to loose my job at the worst possible time. So I come to work to an e-mail complaining about my attitude. I get scared, really scared, are all my fears coming true, am I going to be fired? Probably not, but there's a good possibility. I hope that I can apologize and ask for one more chance. If not, I'll deal with it the best that I can. I'm sure it'll be okay. Here's a draft of an apology that I wrote:

What I'm about to say is pure excuse and you have no reason to care, I know that your concern is the company and only the company. I realize that my attitude is bad, t's been horrible, and disgraceful. All I can say is that I have a tendency to sabotage myself when I get bored or dissatisfied with my job. Today I woke up and I realized that I have a good job. This job is fun, I get to help people, and yeah people can be stupid, and so can reps but I'm not better than anybody and I forgot that for a long time.

Now I realize I have no business being a senior. I know it's hard work, and I've been lazy. I'm not ready for it. What I always fail to grasp in life, is that it's not enough to be good at something, you have to be a good person too. There's no excuse for how I've acted and I apologize.

I'm sure there will be more to that, but I think it sounds pretty sincere. If anybody reads this, a few words of encouragement would go a long way today.

I am afraid of boredom. I know I just posted a couple hours ago, but I am afraid of boredom. So I'm writing about boredom because I'm bored, and I don't want to talk about my real fears. Maybe I'll go home tonight and get drunk alone, but it's so lonely. Maybe when I think boredom, I'm really thinking lonely, because that's what I'm really afraid of is loneliness. I wake up every morning panicking at 8:40 for no good reason, I know this isn't normal but I don't do anything about it because I'm afraid to know how effed up I am. Ugh, I cannot stand boredom, I want to do something, anything this weekend. I know most people like relaxing weekends, but that's because they don't live alone. I live alone, alone, really, really alone. People care, but not really, I don't know anybody else that lives alone. I don't know anybody that's ever lived alone. It's just not right. How much of a social reject must I be that I'm living alone?

*sigh* Close your eyes and let the words flow, even if they don't make sense, just write for five minutes write just to see what comes out. Right now I'm facing a weekend alone, and I know I just wrote those words two weeks ago, but they're here again. I don't want to go to my uncles because they need a weekend away from me, I don't want to go to my grandparents because I'm going there Sunday. So I'm facing a whole day just staring at the TV with my thoughts wandering to all those fears that I keep locked up inside of me most of the time. I'd hang out with my friend that got fired, but he seems to be busy most nights, and I know tomorrow. What I'd really like to do is curly up with a 8 episode disc of fraiser and smoke the night away. Or go out drinking and get smashed :) But I know that's not going to happen, though I'm sure I could if I really tried. Fraiser is just so hard to come by, I know one source but it's a work source and I'm afraid to ask at work, I could go through my friend that got fired, he might have a source, but it's doubtful. So what began as a post about nothing to do, ends with a quest for fraiser. Alas, the cure for boredom, loneliness, etc. is hard to come by though not impossible if I do it right.

I always do this, I get my hopes up for something to change in life and it doesn't. So I was up late last night, and searching myspace for old high school friends, when I realized a couple of things. One, I didn't have many friends. And when I say many, I mean any. I didn't have any friends aside from the people that were trying to use me and loose me. Two, every single person that has a myspace account is doing better than me. In love, going to college, having kids, everyone of them is happy. When I look at myself, I see a lot of things, but I don't see happy. I see conflicted, lonely, empty, scared, and right now just depressed.

Now my depression comes partially from last nights tears in front of my computer, but there's

So we just got back from Reno last night, and it was fun. I'll have a better review of every casino, bar etc I went into, but right now I need to talk about my desire to quit smoking. I told myself a month ago that I was going to quit smoking after Reno. But now I'm on my first day and I'm staring at my cigarettes and wondering if this was a good idea or not, I'm ashamed that cigarettes have that much control over me. For the first time in my life I'm actually experiencing the addiction. Even typing in this blog I want to put a cigarette between my fingers, it's how I always type. Now I'm not even sure if I really want to quit, but I know that as soon as I light it I've failed. And I hate to fail, even though I do it all the time. I really want one, just look at those, do I quit or not? It's going to be bad, but they say don't even try if you're not completely sure about it. Right now I'm not sure about it, but I know I'll hate myself even worse if I light up.

Ha ha, I'm kind of excited. Well I'm really excited about the prospect of a great weekend, four days off of work, RENO!!!! But what I'm excited about now is I got a response from my favorite former talk radio host, Victor Boc. He's like an E list local celebrity, if you asked a hundred people in down town Portland if they knew the guy, maybe one would know him, but probably not.

But as the story goes, in 8th grade I was expelled from school because I expressed sympathy for some bad people, those bad people happened to be in the news at the time. So when I was expelled from school, I started exploring the AM dial not know what to expect. I had no idea, in 8th grade I was barely even getting into KDUK the local pop station, I thought all the radio was had was crappy pop music. So anyway I switch to the AM side, feeling depressed and down on myself etc. And I hear some guy on there talking about Bill Clinton. So I listen and there's actually discussion, and feedback etc. This is how I was introduced to talk radio. The guy was Victor Boc. So anyway, he moves to Portland from Eugene and switches radio stations. I switch stations too because that happened to be the station that the Blazers were on when they were doing good. But then 2 years ago, he just leaves. I checked his website weekly for a while, then monthly and then I just stop because there's never any updates.

But last night I was making an omelet at 2 AM, and on TV Michael Medved comes on. Michael Medved had the slot before Victor when I first started to listen to talk radio, and out of nowhere comes Boc's name from the bowels of nostalgia. So I look him up real quick and now he's no even a E-list local celebrity, but he's writing, and playing professional poker, lol. So I decide to leave a comment on the sight just to see if he plans anymore radio. And to my amazement, I check my e-mail today (well just 10 minutes ago when I started to write this) and there's a reply. He remembers me from when I used to e-mail him occasionally about topics on his show. I know this is nowhere near Kristin Dunst seeing me in a crowd of people and waving (just a dream, lol) But still somebody is some somebody knows me, and it almost validates my existence. Yeah I know that's sad, but if this blog wasn't sad, I would have the five fans that I do.

So a weekend with nothing to do and I'm near panic, what's wrong with me? Why am I so afraid to spend time with myself? Yeah I go home every night and I stare at my tv and maybe my computer, for a few hours and then I go to bed and wake up alone, but somehow the thought of spending whole days alone without talking to anybody kinda scares me. I'm sure this isn't normal, but it's still scary. If I look deeper into the fear, I guess my fear of death prevents me from wasting time alone. I realize that I have to go home to an empty apartment every night alone, but my waking hours should not be spent alone! I'm so afraid to spend my life alone.

I have a good serious post in me today, and the subject will be:

When Best Friends get Girl Friends, Nothing is Ever the Same.

I had meant to write this later, but this post is begging to come out, even if it is at work. Now this has happened to me, at least twice in my life. The first time when Eric, my friend in high school, got a girlfriend. They were so perfect for each other, but they always fought. The point there, I went from hanging out with him most days after school to being an occasional friend. But that was good in the long run because they got really, really into drugs and they never were going anywhere in life. Besides he was never truly my friend, just someone who pretended to be one while milking me for every cent I was worth. So that's a bad case, and one of these days I'll write about him, but that will be a long drunken post on a night where the future seems bleak and the past even Bleaker.

The next friend I had who got a girl friend worked out a little better. When Shane found Opal in Job Corps it was devastating to me. Opal always seemed like the only girl worth anything in that Hell hole, of course I felt the same way of Shane. He was the only person with ANY brains at that place. He was the one person with whom loyalty seem a given, the one person who would see me drop my wallet and not pocket the money out of it. People in that place were vicious, but he was the exception. So when my best friend and my crush got together it hurt so bad. I wanted to be supportive to them, and I eventually was, but there was a time of a couple of weeks or months when I just avoided them. I threw myself into learning to cook and becoming the best damned cook in that Hell. I spent my time reading everything that place had to offer. It was mostly cheap paperbacks, but I buried myself in them. I worked incredible hours in the kitchen so that when I wasn't there, I was sleeping and when I couldn't sleep I read. I became a pack a day smoker in that time too. It was a bad time, but I eventually snapped out of it. And when I did, there they were, still my best friends only this time I had two. Still even then when things worked the best way possible, I was still the 3rd wheel. Whenever I was with them I never quite felt like I belonged, but I didn't know where else to go, so I sat in a corner and read. Now Shane and Opal are amazing people and they were still my friends through that knowing that I can never understand what it's like to be in love, or even lust for that matter. And there it is.

I had meant to write another long paragraph about my new friend getting a girlfriend, but that's just not necessary. This is why it's such a huge deal to me to loose friends to girlfriends. Because I can never, NEVER, EVER understand what it's like to love, (like, lust, want) somebody and for them to feel the same way. I have had glimpses into it, but they were always fleeting. A few hours then it was over. But I can still feel it, where everything seems okay in the world and I would give anything to feel more of it. When you look into someone's eyes and see the same longing, the complete comfort and contentment with being with you. Where no part of you in anything but perfect, true soul mates. Okay, maybe I've never really felt that way, and it probably doesn't exist. But I have felt lust, I think. I have felt something before, maybe it's just a feeling of intense hope that my eternal loneliness may finally be over. But alas, I'm straying from the subject, but not really. The point is, the reason I always loose friends to girlfriends is because I can never understand how they feel. When they say they're in love, or even "man I wanna F*** (that girl)", I can never understand that. Because I've just given up. I've stopped trying for years and it hasn't gotten me anywhere. I always here that when you stop trying someone will come along. Except it won't. Nothing will ever come along, I know that now, and soon I hope that I'll be able to accept it.

So I'm drunk again, and this time panicking over little things, except they're not little things, these are insults to my way of like, who I am. That's just not, this bitch is ruthless, but with a cute face. Am I living in a cliche' or am I living at all? Right now I am in the middle of a panic attack, and I'm going to write it to document it. It's weird though, I can provoke my panic attacks and postpone them 'till later. Like I can feel one coming on, but I can talk myself out of it. Sometimes I'm just so afraid. And what I'm most afraid of: this ruthless girl can bring me down, just from what's she seen. She could get me fired if I she really wanted to, I should really explain my trains of thoughts, and maybe they'll seem irrational. . . . .

. . . I'd rather had a job where everybody hates me than no job at all. So there's my way out, and this is weird because my panic attacks are always a series of weird connections that end up in me loosing my job, or dyeing, or some other catastrophic event. But in the middle of an attack, then those least likely of possibilities seems like a certainty. The trouble is I don't wake up all better, for days and sometimes longer I feel at the edge of an attack. I can't tell anybody about this, and even as I'm writing this I'm afraid that this might come back on me. You know what (and this is the basis for my multiple personality theory) I look up at this entry and I see the words afraid a lot. I am really afraid for no good reason, and that's why I need paxil again. I know I need to do that, but in order to do that, I need to change my life style. The main thing, and that's what I'll work on this week and next is fast food and 7-11. I know those habits are bad and I did them for way to long, but now it's time to save money and go from spending $20 to $10 and freeing money for all the little things, like furniture, groceries, maybe even paxil. God this blog is getting boring, but trust me it's therapeutic.

So I went out drinking last night and I was having a good time, spending more money than I should, drinking whatever was put infront of me, etc. I was out with my family, and then we go into this redneck strip club and I'm in the bathroom, and before I know it, I'm getting punched in the face. I guess this is a part of going to bars, it sucks, but that's fine with me. What bothers me is my reaction. I started calling him "sir" and appologizing, then when it was over, and I'm not sure how it even stopped because I was That drunk, I started bawling. Not brawling like fighting and kicking somebody's ass, it was crying, tears everything. And I didn't stop crying for ten or twenty minutes. And you know what, it felt good. All that shit that I bottled up for so long about frustration with my job, my life, knowing that there's nothing I can do about it and just botteling it up, just finally came out. It's like those posts where I talk about all I want to do is cry, or I just can't take it anymore and at the end, I just say something like "alas, there's nothing I can do about it, so I'm just going to get kicked in the balls one more time and say FUCK IT!", finally I cried and it felt good after it was all done. I still feel ashamed, I still feel really, really ashamed, but it was around family, so it wasn't bad. It's not the way I should have handled it, but I learned a couple of leasons last night. One, if my survival instincts are really to appologize then cry, I really need new insticts. Two, my family (well at least my aunt, uncle, etc.) really are there for me no matter what through Hell and back, through my deepest falls and my highest highs, they will be there. And three, my mom really fucked up on me. I had always known this, I'd even talked about it, but last night made me realize how all of my social problems are my mom's fault. Which sounds bad because I'm not taking responsibility, but really it all goes back to her! And I really don't want to bash my mom, because I'm an American so I love my mama, ha ha. That's why I'm going to take out the "cheap whore" line from this post. All's well, what I gained from that night, before I got punched in the face and started crying, and even what I learned after made last night entirely worth while. Now as long as this doesn't go around the family, I'm good. And I realize a couple of people from my family read this blog, but I made a promise a long time ago that this blog is honest, raw emotion. I hold nothing back, because this will be a record of my decent into devine obscurity, or my rise to power!

So just when my job couldn't get any worse, and I realize that this shouldn't affect me at all, my best friend at work gets himself fired. It's not as if he needed the job, and he did take way too many days off, but still it effects my life more than anything has in the past year really. This job etc. has gotten routine and more than I care to admit it, the biggest part of my routine and the part that I enjoyed the most was hanging out after work with this particular friend. There were times when I thought it was less than normal to be hanging out with the same person most nights, and most of it was just working out way through various video games or debating which football team was better, what's going on in the world etc. But it gave me somebody to bounce idea off of, somebody to pretend to care when my family turns their back on me. Somebody so at least I'm not sitting in an empty apartment staring at the walls begging the universe to do something to me! And now, as much as I will want it to be the same, it just can't be.

I just hope that I don't break down and start sabotage myself like I did at Job Corps when Shane and Opal left. Things were never quite the same after they left, and neither was I. It was as if without Shane and Opal I didn't really have the will to be there anymore and I just wanted out, but I couldn't get out because there were no other options for me. So I just kinda stopped trying. I'm afraid that I will do this at this job too. Now that my support system is suddenly yanked away from me I just hope that I'm strong enough to keep going on my own. Alas, there's nothing I can do about it, so I'll just sit here and do my job, because that's what I do and there's no way around that. So here's to all of those that ever took a chance on an anti-social, somewhat smart, but genuinely good person, and all of those who left me on my own.

They did it again. As much as I've been hating my job already, they did it again. They shorted my paycheck again! They tried to fix it but they fucked it up again. My hatred towards this job is eating away at me, day after day I come to work and work my ass off for these people doing all this extra work that I'm not paid for. They expect me to train classes when it's not my job, I'm not trained to do it, and more importantly they DON'T PAY ME FOR IT!!! Now they're trying to short me again, it would be easy to just say FUCK IT. It's less than $150 dollars total, but goddamit that's my money! And of course there's that raise that I'm entitled to but never received and they say I'll receive it some time next week. Goddamit! Is this just bad karma from working at this place for too long and not feeling anything when a single mother with two kids calls and says her refridgerator isn't working, but we don't have service and she has to wait a week to find a servicer, but then they don't call in a week, so it's another week, and when the woman finally does get a servicer they take a look at it and order a part, tell her it will take a 3 or 4 days but then it takes two weeks, and then it's the wrong part. So the woman waits another week for another appointment only to tell her that the refridgerator can't be fixed and then it takes another 6 or 8 weeks to get her a refridgerator, meanwhile her kid who needs to keep insulin dies because it can't be kept cold, and I just don't care because there's nothing I can do! Is Karma finally catching up with me because I no longer care? What's with this world where it's nobody's fault and people still get screwed? How many times have I told people "there's nothing I can do, but I apologize for the huge inconvenience" these ass holes didn't even apologize. The didn't even pretend to care, to them who make real money (at least twice what I make) $140 before taxes means close to nothing, but they can at least pretend to care. I have to pretend to care about every single ass hole that I get on the phone. I have to put on a fake smile and say with at least FAKE sincerity "I apologize, let me fix that for you" and all the other bull shit scripting. They didn't even pretend to give a fuck! And the worst part of it, if they fuck up they next paycheck then my check will be too short for me to go to Reno, and I've already made the hotel reservations depending on this coming pay check, or the last check being able to pay all my bills, and then this one, if the next one doesn't have the $$$ I'm fucked! And they can go to Hell, those worthless pieces of shit. One mistake deserves another right. Well one more time, fuck them, fuck this job, and fuck this backwards, redneck, smelly town that tries to be Eugene but never comes close!

Sometimes, I just hate my job. Like today for no good reason, I hate this place, every day it's the same thing. Over and over and over again. Bad customers and stupid reps. Really do these people know anything about their job? And it's not just new people, these are people that have been here as long, or loger than me. I'm just so sick of this routine. And now I've gotten myself so far into debt that I will never be able to work my way out of it. But that's a worry that I can put away for a while anyway. Then they say it will be another week before I get my year raise. God I need a new job, a change of scenery, anything to get my mind off of work. This is getting to be too much for me. Then I realize that life isn't all that bad, I know it could be a lot worse, but does that mean I have to accept this boring, mind-numbing existence? Yeah probably, well like I used to say, life sucks and then you die, so fuck it!

Amazing and stupendous! I have a date on Saturday. This seems a bit surreal, considering I'm still hazy from last night and I've just donated blood, so the dizziness is multiplied plenty. But this girl that I kinda know from work and I've talked to on breaks etc. She's older 26 or 27, but still acts young. Into fantasy books, drinking etc. I've been on one date recently (sometime in July) and the results of that one were mixed. It was a good date, by the end of the date the girl really liked me, I was drunk, but waking up the next morning I realized I didn't like her, and it's been fairly awkward since. The girl's been trying to get with me, but I've made it clear (kinda) that I didn't like her and she stopped trying. The last date was a trip to the coast for beach combing, dinner and shopping. This date is just to a bar and bowling maybe. The difference between the last one and this one, I think I already like the girl. And is this going out as friends, or more? Did she just say yes because she's a nice person, she didn't hesitate to say yes, so that's' a good sign. I hear my friends talk about their exploits (three girls in three days) and it doesn't seem like a big deal at all.

I know saying she's 26 or 27 makes you think OLD, and that would make you think that she would know the difference, or at least be able to make it clear to me. If this is going out as friends, then we'd be paying for ourselves, if this is a date I'd be paying for everything. I know I should just be myself, but when how can I? Also I'm going to be driving, and going to a bar. How much is too much, especially on a Saturday night coming out of a bar, where the cops are going to be looking. I know online using my body weight, I can drink up to 10 drinks in an hour, but that's way, way too much. But is five drinks too much? A designated driver would be nice, but if this really is a date (rather than friends hanging out) then that isn't an option. And either way that really isn't an option. Also: now that I have a car, do I pick her up or do we meet at the bar? OMG, all I know about dates comes from Fraiser (the real Fraiser, not the code word) and one unsuccessful date.

AND what if it goes wrong? What if I do something stupid like getting too drunk , or thinking it's something more than it is? If this goes bad, this could go really, really bad. Carly said once that a night of drinking usually goes bad, and the fact that I my 21st birthday went so well was a miracle. On the other hand, if this goes good, this can go really, really, REALLY good.


But I have to look at this positively, I just got a date with a girl that I've had a crush on since she started here. And she didn't hesitate at all. Does that mean that she's had a crush too? What I really need to do is go into this with NO expectations. Period. Every time I've had any success with girls I've had no expectations, and it usually goes good. So maybe all these questions will work themselves out, and I'm sure they will. And I'm sure I'll have a great time. For now, it needs to leave my mind and I need to concentrate on something, anything else. Wish me luck.

An undefined sense of longing. It's been less than a month since my birthday weekend. That was a great weekend. A day at the fair, followed by a day of rest, then a night of binge drinking, to top it all off two full days at the coast just exploring beaches, etc. That was a great weekend where I could truly forget about everything for a few days. Now I'm already restless, like there is something bigger for me to do with life. Vacations just distract me from that, I know I'm climbing the ladder here, inch by painful inch. There is something seriously wrong with this situation, but it's something I can just barely comprehend. Like the old stick figure analogy to explain the possible existence of the 4th dimension of space. The stick figure can almost comprehend the 3rd dimension, but it can't access it. This is my situation.

Yeah, I know this wasn't much of an entry, and I'm not really hiding anything, but since feeling isn't as passionate as the hate or rage that I usually feel, it's just hard to write about. Sorry to all three people that ever read this.

For the first time in longer than I can remember, I actually feel like crying. I am just so frustrated over little things in life, that all I want to do is crawl into a hole and cry. I know all of the things that I rant about now will seem irrelevant in a day or a week, but for now I scream! Actually, I don't scream, I let go of my facade of feeble masculinity, and let my emotions role. I'm not even mad, I'm just kinda sad. My paycheck was $100 short because of a mistake by my supervisor who makes enough that $100 would be very little to her. But to me, it means the difference between 2 weeks of feigned wealth, and 2 weeks of abject poverty. Yeah I have enough to pay my bills, but barely. I'm going to have to give up smoke, lunch, fast food, pretty much any food. I really don't know how I'm going to live for 2 weeks with less than $100 for food, cigarettes and gas. And to top it all off, I'm being treated so unfairly at work that I can barely hold myself together. I thought about putting myself back onto Paxil, but that has to wait another month, God I'm just so afraid that I can't handle it. But for now, I put a smile on my face, and fake happiness in my voice and I suffer. I bottle it up some more, and hope beyond reason that I'll be able to keep that lid on my emotions.

I don't like being excluded. God this seems just like high school, where I spent four years observing the "cool" people like animals in a zoo, while loosing myself in a haze of feigned rebellion. Now irony pokes it's head and I'm still on the edge. Why don't people ask me what I think? Because they don't care. What this comes down to is a meeting between my boss and some co-workers. Apparently it was to ask the question: what can bosses do to improve. It seemed that she had the people that she liked over there, and when I asked her what the criteria for being invited to the meeting were, she said there were none. So I smiled and said I understood, but to me it seemed JUST LIKE HIGHSCHOOL! OMG I hate it, all I wanted to do is tell her that if she wants to meet with her friends, she should do it on her own time. It's amazing that this far out of highschool people still treat me like shit! I know it wasn't a direct insult to me, but it sure feels like it. I hate being excluded, am I not was good as the other people? Do I not do as much work or more than everybody else, did I not learn a product that I didn't really care about just so people who did not want to deal with drunk, backwards redneck customers could send them to me? I mean what in the hell do I have to do to get ahead in this Hell? I know my attitude has sucked recently, but goddamn, who's wouldn't at this point? I do more than most people, I know more than most people, and they STILL don't invite me to their meeting? This is pure, refined BS. Why do I even try at this job to be anything more than a mindless, souless, automaton of a phone monkey? The reason is that I still crave appoval.

And that's it, isn't it. It's not like highschool where I stood on the outside of the social circles because I was afraid to get rejected. This is like growing up when the little sisters would constantly get more love, attention, stuff than me. This has nothing to do with high school, this all comes down to jealousy. It seems kind of archaic to be talking about jealousy after all I've been through in life, but that's what it comes down to. I am no better than that psycho little 10 year old that I used to be, with the rage rippling through my body and no good way to express it. Well at least now I have a way to express it (thank god for Blogspot.) Still it hurts to be left out. I thought that I've grown up, but I really haven't. I haven't really matured any from that sadistic teenager or that mad, scared little boy. The emotions are still there, I've just learned to control them a little.

I know I've been depressed lately for some reason that I just can't put my finger on, and like I said in a previous post, all I needed was somebody to notice I've been depressed and to ask me why to let the words flow. Actually yeah, I'm depressed, but just like being fat, and being ugly, broke, socially inept, I'll deal with it. Depression is a part of my life right now. Sure it's wrapping it's self around my heart, killing any hope that I've ever had at true happiness. I'm distracting myself constantly from the pain, but sometimes it's just there. When I'm sitting infront of a computer, mindlessly doing my job thinking of other things, I'm vulnerable. So when somebody comes up to me and tells me I've been sounding depressed on the phone, I almost tell them why, part of me wants to just let go and tell them that I'm constantly sad for no good reason, and I'm not sure why, but I know I need help. But I don't, instead I put on a big fake smile and tell them, "oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize I've been sounding depressed, I must have been tired." And then I go right back on the phones and put a little extra effort into sounding happy, and pretending to care about customers, but I don't feel any better.

It seems that lately I've been waking every day in a state of panic. I go to bed somewhat peaceful, or at least too exhausted to stay awake for another second, and I wake up in near panic over issues that aren't quite clear. Could I be having nightmares that I don't remember? That would be a nice tidy explanation. I don't think it is though, I think I'm neglecting my bills etc. In pursuit of earthly pleasures. I know I shouldn't feel THAT bad about it, but something deep inside of me resists wasting life. It almost seems taboo to waste life, but sometimes it feels so good to do nothing. Then I wake up in a panic. The conclusion here is: I need psychiatric help. I need to talk to somebody, maybe be put on some pills, but something needs to be done. Waking up every morning in a panic, random thoughts of death, an undying loneliness that consumes me should I dare to let my mind wander. This is not normal. Or maybe it is, and the reason I feel that it's not normal is because I so desperately want to feel unique. This goes back to my last post where I ranted a little on the fact that I will never be rich, famous, smart, beautiful, or anything but a minor cog in a big, ugly corporate machine. I guess all I can do is sigh, and suck it up.

Do you ever get the feeling that something bad might happen? I've had that feeling for a while, and since I talked to the grandparents yesterday, I'm kinda nervous about them going to Europe right now. But it's more than just nervousness, it's a subtle sense of dread that I've been feeling since I've gotten this job. Now it seems to come to a head, I talked to them and I had an overwhelming feeling that this might be the last time. I probably shouldn't have written that, it makes me seem just a little more crazy than I really am. But in an effort to be completely honest with myself and all those who read this, it will stay in.

This is a postcard from Post Secret. I had no idea that this is what my secret un-defined longing has been. I never even knew it was a secret, but I always thought that there was more out there for me. And maybe the panic/depression that I've been feeling for the past couple of months is not from fear of death, but from fear of living without purpose. Maybe my mind couldn't grasp the fact that I probably won't be rich or famous, or beautiful. I've had no trouble realizing it, but I've never quite accepted it. THIS IS WHY I'M DEPRESSED!!! And now I can start to deal with it.

On anther random note: I watch way, WAY too much E! I think I'm the only person that I know that could have picked out Harrison Ford at the Emmys and tell you why he was there. I really need to pursue more manly hobbies.

So after all that whining about spending my birthday alone, I ended up having a great time. Four days of having fun, and it wasn't all drinking, well a lot of it was. So just a little description of exactly what I did then how I feel:

So Friday I wake up not sure on what to do with my weekend, but I see my cousin online and I decide to drive to Springfield and go to the fair with her and her bf. It was a lot of fun and a lot of walking. But I saw the OCC bike that the Oregon Lottery is giving away. And I ate a Bavarian Cream, funnel cake. This is the world's perfect food. It was amazing and perfect in every possible way. Fried dough topped with a scoop of Bavarian Cream, topped with whipped cream, then powdered sugar and chocolate syrup. A heart attack on a plate. Ironically I had a Diet Pepsi with that, lol. And I wasted plenty of money on midway games winning almost nothing. But Sue and DJ are always fun to hang out with.

The next day was spent just hanging out at my uncle's staring at the walls willing time to pass. But after Carly got off, things got fun. We stopped at the liquor store just because I've never been in one. I ended up with a bottle of Jose, and one of Seagram's. So I start nipping at the Seagrams around 6, and get a small buzz going. And before I start to list what I remember, you have to realize that this is all on an empty stomach. The only thing I had eaten in the past 24 hours was some eggs and toast around 9 that morning. So right before we leave, I impress my uncle by downing half of that pint of Jose in one shot. Then Dave, Carly, Nina and me go out bar hopping. We start out at some sports bar that my uncle heard good things about. And order a round of Long Island iced teas. Then comes a shot of Jeggermister (sp?) then something pink, something called a Camakazi, a shot of Gin, a shot of Jack, a Corona with lime. And I'm sure I missed something there. Then comes my first ever strip bar, I forget what the name of it was, but a long island iced tea and a beer later, I'm getting a lap dance from some random girl. Eventually we end up at The Silver Dollar in Eugene. This is where everything gets fuzzy then black, I remember hearing last call, and I remember somebody handing me a t-shirt. Then the next day I wake up yelling about how drinking should be illegal. That it's philsophically wrong to get THAT intoxicated. And then we spend an amazing weekend on the coast, having WAY too much fun. All boring kind of family stuff. Except for a trip to Moby Dick's, a rough local bar in Newport. That was a lot of fun, just had a drink there and watched the drunk locals singing Karaoke. My uncle wouldn't let me get up there and sing Disturbed, ha ha.

Now looking back on this weekend, I realize that I had a lot of fun. Just an amazing time where nothing really went wrong. But it still did not completely distract me from the inevitable. I spent more money than I should have, and now all I feel is guilt, with an extreme reluctance to go back to my old routine. I just don't want to be here today (work). What I learned, life sucks, no matter how much you distract yourself by having fun, going back to the real world sucks.

So facing another birthday alone, and this one my 21st life seems a little bleak. This is my last chance to be a kid and first chance to be an adult. But to me it represents so much more. All you're life you're always too young to do things. But after 21, there's nothing that you're excluded from because of mere age. That means that as far as the world is concerned I'm a real person. What it also means is there's really nothing more to grow older for. The only thing left to look forward to is death, and that is just too depressing to think about. So I face a birthday alone in my apartment in front of my computer with a bottle of cheap taquilla listing my woes for all the world to see. The thing is, the world doesn't really care. Nobody really cares, with the exception of Opal (my friend from Job Corps) and Jenn (we all know about Jenn.) But both these people are so far away, they don't know what I've become, an obesse, depressed mockery of the old me, with none of the fire and desire that made people like me. The personality to replace looks. Now I really am nothing. I just want to go home and crawl into a hole, but it seems like I feel that way more and more. That nothing seems to be worth doing. So here's to 21 alone, and eternity to wallow.

So they move my desk again. This is the fourth time since I've been here. They told me change my attitude, so I did. Now they cast me off. This is like in school when the teacher says get into groups and you ask if you can work alone just because you don't want the humiliation of looking around with the lost look on your face, begging somebody to take sympathy, inches from tears but you just can't let them see that. So you work alone, and you fail Spanish three time because you're forced to learn from books when everybody else gets to endlessly repeat Spanish. The same in Algerbra where you stare at the book longing to understand, begging God or who ever to just help you understand, while all around you people work in groups on problems that they all understand just because they work together so that they can have the moment where a concept that has been eluding them for so long clicks into place. The difference between them and you, they have that instant gratification that comes when people say good job, oh now I get it, or simply DUH! Instead when you have that moment of understanding, you're sitting at a desk alone pretending not to care about anybody but secret longing to be part of the group, absently staring at a book your eyes unfocused, when suddenly a stray thought catches another stray thought and they mix in harmony, though they are quickly forgotten in a haze of embarrassment from having hoped that somebody might care. It's the same as taking choir as an easy C, but getting into it because for the first time you feel bigger than yourself, to spend hours after school trying to train your voice to control your falsetto, and finally that elusive g note that's between your regular voice and falsetto, that is so crucial to a song. You don't know why you care, but all you know is somebody is there to say that you're doing good, and is telling you how to improve instead of telling you that you're wrong. For the same reason you skipped Prom to spend the night in your room alone with a bag and a video game. Because you care when you don't want to, because the boundless rejections of past life besiege you as you rest. This is why moving to the corner feels like every single time they teacher told you to get into groups, and every time you ever had hope that some girl who talks to you actually might be your ticket away from virgin hell. It's not that you're weird it's that you feel rejection so much harder than the rest of the world that you cling to every bit of hope that is sent to you. When you finally feel part of the "cool" group that you've been longing for since forever, they kick you out. And when you realize that they have a problem with you change instantly in the hope of it all being better again, when it isn't, you want to close your eyes and screem, let all the rage and depression take physical form, but you don't and you keep your mouth shut again, until one day it was all explode at the first person that asks you "how's life" and actually means it. But for now you type away in a blog that nobody reads, two posts in a day and a copy edit, and hope that somebody out there truly gives a fuck.

Oh blessed bi-polar tendencies, without you depression would seem endless and happiness just a step towards more depression. Blessed be my ability to distract myself from the inevitable; when a stray comment from a stranger darkness comes to light and all that is bad is masked by fear of rejection.

No need for vague references to half truths, like I said a few days ago this blog is going back to the brutal honesty that gave a modest following (fine three people and family :)

So my boss asks me why I've had a bad attitude the past couple of weeks, I don't tell her the real reason: that I've been struggling with my weight, mortality and a financial troubles, so I tell her "it's Monday, what do you expect?" But something in the way she asked me (like maybe she cared) made me realize that this attitude is not getting me anywhere, that maybe my spirit has been crushed by life, but that doesn't mean that I can't pretend to be in a good mood. To quote my uncle, there's a public person and a private person. I've been letting my personal struggles affect my work. I've been letting my heart, broken not by love but by life, control how I act and feel. I need to take control and do what I have to do even if I don't feel like it.

I know I'm going to kill myself by eating fast food, but somehow I can't stop. I know that soon I'll be 400 lbs. and there will be no way out. I just can't stop it. Please God, I know you exist because you have to. If there was no God then life truly would be meaningless and futile. But I know there's more than just life. Well I don't know there there is more, but I want there to be more so I choose to believe there is more. Maybe I'm choosing Christianity because that's the major religion. I used to rebel against conformity, now, secretly that's all I want. There are other motivations, but if I could be just like everybody else, life might be a little better. Or maybe it wouldn't be. I don't know. What I do know is that work is beconing and there's nothing I can do to stop it. As much as I want to stay home and wallow in my obesity, there's no time for that. I have to go to work, if for no other reason, to support my addictions: fast food and nicotine. Yeah, I'm just plain sad.

Do you ever feel traped in your own skin, like you would want nothing more than just to blow up and throw things around, tell people what you really think and damn the consequces of it all. Just say "fuck you, you religious piece of shit, don't ask me stupid questions if you don't want stupid answers" Fuck you miss boss girl, who's ass do you really have to kiss to get ahead in this company, oh wait it's not about ass kissing it's adick sucking. And miss boss girl is an expert at that! God I am so sick of watching what I say. I'm so sick of biting my toung, I just want to scream! I don't even want to get ahead anymore, I really need a new job because day after day of this mindless bullshit is eating away at my soul

So it's been a long time since I've posted in this, and an ever longer time since I've written anything of value. But my uncle seems to have said it right, this has gotten boring since I've given my secret away, today I say "fuck it" consequences be damned and this is what I feel:

I've recently had a degree of success in life. With a 75 cent raise and buying my car before my birthday like I said that I would. But it seems the more I succeed, the more I realize how goddamned futile this is. I keep on distracting myself from the inevitable but it never works. I will die some day and it just seems so un-natural. I've heard people say that life is un-natural, but they're wrong. I shouldn't have to die, I shouldn't rot away into bones and dust, I don't want my body burned or buried, I don't want anything to happen to it. I don't want to go to sleep one night and never wake up, or to be driving down the road and get t-boned by a drunk driver, I don't want to have a heart attack or to be decapitated, I want to live forever! Now I know that I'm killing my self with every cigarette that I smoke and every time I eat a whopper, but I can't stop. I know I'm going to die before I'm 50, that's inevitable, but I refuse to accept that fact in the deepest part of who I am. What really scares me is that my real father died before he was 40, he died fat, balding and alone. What makes me so different from him? Nothing. And does 50 years really make that much of a difference, if I die at 30 or I die at 130 it's still death. What makes up so so special to even know of death, animals don't mourn they're dead. What cruel God decided that we alone fear death? Is it an evolutionary mistake? I DON'T KNOW!! I CARE, I REALLY, REALLY CARE, BUT I DON'T KNOW AND I GIVE UP!!!!

Welcome to July everyone. June was an exercise in futility with nothing coming out of it except for "revelation" about college, a slightly larger savings account, and a more refined plan for my gambling vacation in October. Nothing ever changes! Life is short and I'm wasting it! I know that I've said this better before but I'm so sick of routine!! I need an escape from this, there is so much left to do in life and every day I spend here is wasted! I realize I need money to live, but who wants to just exist in life, I need to live it. Maybe I should join the peace corps and leave this life behind for a year or so, of course that probably won't work considering I went to Maryland and Hawaii for a couple of months and (don't tell anyone) the homesickness ate at me everyday I was there, knowing that I couldn't leave whenever I wanted to made it that much worse. I'm so conflicted, I want out but my apartment in my sanctuary, nothing can harm me in those walls except for the walls themselves as they close in and consume me from the inside. So much resentment builds up in me, I want out but I'm afraid to leave. I'm screaming to be released but begging to stay. Is there no compromise or have the failures of past lives condemned me to conflicted misery.

I just wanted to tell somebody this, I'm sure I'll tell my family and they'll be happy etc. but won't believe me until they see it. It may be just another pointless dream, but I'll write it here first.


I'm going to college.

Maybe not, and I don't want to get my hopes up. I'm sure when I realize what hard, tedious work it will be I'll be discouraged and after being discouraged I'll probably give up. But what I know now is that I have no long term goals. Sure I'm getting a car within a month, and my 21st birthday is in 68 days. I'll get four days off for drinking and after that a four day tour of Oregon's Indian casinos some time in October. But what then? I'll probably start thinking about Christmas again. Then after Christmas I might think planning another extravagant vacation, maybe Mexico this time a week in Baja or Cancoon, or Vegas maybe.


I really love to travel, so that doesn't sound that bad, but before I know it I'll be 40 lonely and bald, but TODAY is the day that this path ends. I see the end, I always see the end. But the roads between birth and death are many and varied. I'm not sure where college will take me, at 20 I'm still not even sure what I want to do in life, I've changed my mind so many times. What I do know is that I want more than this, not more stuff, but I want to be more. So today I make a choice, I want to enroll in community college for now, in either the Business Administration, or Business and Supervisory Management with my eventual goal being an MBA.

So everybody after months of longing for something more, I have a long term goal, more than more money I will become a bigger cog in the machine of corporate America. Yeah it goes against most of what I believe in, like I tell myself daily: Sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do, to have the things you want to have.

The sad thing is, I already feel the sloth in me creeping in. I wrote this nice little entry, and I want it more than anything now. Well, I want to want it (kind of the way I feel about blind faith). When I look at the alternative to college, there's nothing there, except there is. There's travel there. I can see the world on a budget two weeks a year for the next 40 years! The trouble is, I'll still come home to a crappy apartment and a dead end job.

Well I'm still young, I still have 3/4 of my life ahead of me. If nothing else, by taking the first college course and getting my first college credit, I'll have done more than my parents did in life. And this will sound incredibly vain etc. but it's a good feeling to be a better person than your parents.

the bitter reality of it, there's no escape, you don't realize it until it's too late, but after you move out, 90% of your life is spent working for the 10% you're not

I am so sick of routine, every day it's the same thing, wake up, smoke, shower, smoke, smoke, smoke, work, more work, and just for the hell of it more work. Then it's fast food and TV, then more TV, and more TV. Sitcoms, Fraiser, South Park, King of the Hill. It's the same shows over and over again into nothingness. I'm so desperate for something more. I'm desperate for a goal. But even with a goal, it's still the same routine, wake up, shower, smoke, work, fast food, Sitcoms, Fraiser, South Park, King of the Hill. This is my life, and I already know my destiny. To die alone, probably with more money than I need, surrounded by stuff. No kids, and no family left. It doesn't really matter what I do between now and then. I'd like to see the world, but, where's the fun in traveling if you're going it alone. I could see the sun set on the great wall of China, but with no one to appreciate it. I could experience the Northern Lights in the eternal night of Burrow, Alaska, but who would care. I could see Stone Henge and the Pyramids, the Eiffel Tower, and Big Ben, who would care? I'm sure I'll be able to afford it if I keep at this job every day, and make a two week trip once a year, but who cares. I'm going to die alone, my passions un-persued and my money going to the pursuit of stuff.

Or maybe it's not at bleak as I've made it out to be, if life is the pursuit of distraction, then maybe I've just run out of distractions.

In something that I'm thinking is completely un-related, I had a great dream last night . . . well this morning. I was with my family, Uncle and GF, Cousins and BFs, and grandma and grandpa. We walk into a casino, well not so much a casino as a room with about 10 slot machines on a wall and five or six tables. Carly and Sue go off to play slot machines, my uncle hits the roulette table, and my grandpa hits the Craps table. My grandma and I hit the Black Jack table, I remember the chips keep on switching from little silver chips to big plastic chips, and the cards keep switching too. They go from normal cards to holographic shiny cards. I also remember using the wrong signal to hit, rather than stay. And I remember various drinks being but in front of me, clear liquids in shot glasses, that wasn't vodka, I don't know how I knew I wasn't vodka, but I assumed it was clear rum or tequila, but the only thing I remember tasting in something that tasted like hard lemonade. I remember eyeing a couple of Ashtrays on the table, needed a cigarette, and then a guy in a white cowboy hat lights a cigarette and I say "what a great idea." Then I wake up, from my desire to have a cigarette.

The point of writing about that dream, is that I desperately wanted to cling to that dream. I wanted nothing more than to be there, with family gambling the night away, with a bottomless drink and a pack of cigarettes. I tried to go back to sleep, I wanted so badly to go back to that little fantasy room, my happy place.

In high school, I lowered my expectations in life. I went from the naive hope of becoming a famous journalist with a Fraiser like apartment only in New York, to wanting nothing more than an apartment, a six pack and a game. Now I have the apartment, and my dream of a six pack and a game can be realized on any given weekend. Shouldn't I be happy that I achieved my dream?

How can I be, when I realize that if I achieved my watered down dream that I could have had that apartment in New York and the dream job of traveling the world in search of a story. I still love to write, but that's past me now. Why do I feel washed up at 20? Why have I lost hope when most people are at their most ambitous? Why am I waiting to die when everybody else my age is just starting out? Maybe it's because I see people my age already married and happy with kids. Even though I swore I would never have kids this early, I always thought I'd at least have a relationship or two by now. Instead I can count the number of girls I've kissed barely two hands, and the girls I've kissed in the past year on none.

I've had dreams lately of my family and I, that is my uncles family not my own, in a mall. There are variations, in one we're in a disney store circa 1978, in another we're in a shopping mall, but for some reason I think it's a tour of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. Now why would I have dreams of a shopping mall? I've looked in the dream dictionaries online and none of them mention shopping malls, or time travel (as the case of 1978.) Am I just weird, or is all of this connected? Goals achieved and constantly living in the past. Well that's why I had the dream about Disney store in 1978, it's because even on a concience level I realized that I was dwelling a lot in the past, and Disneyland is one of the things I was dwelling on, but not the major thing. And Hogwarts obviously because I'm re-reading the Harry Potter series. But I still don't understand why I'm dreaming of shopping malls and my uncle's family. Well I guess I won't figure that one out tonight, but I'll keep this window open in case I think of anything interesting.

For those of you who care, just a little update on my life. Completely pointless and entirely irrelivent to anybody but me, but the thing on my face popped so it doesn't have to be lanced! To Gabbie: Ha ha, I don't have to get my fact cut!!

Life in the pursuit of distraction, I'm bored with distraction. I live in a fantasy world occupied by video game pursuits of Superbowl championships, and the lives of young wizards. Of fighting evil and winning the game. I'm sick of fantasy, life isn't distraction in the endless pursuit of an end to undieing loneliness. There is nothing beyond the loneliness that I feel constricting every inch of my darkened soul. Soon there will be nothing left, and I'll still be alone. That's what it all comes down to: Nobody wants to die alone. I don't want to die alone, do you? Of course you don't, but you don't have to worry about that, it seems everyone out there has someone. It used to be easy to make myself feel better by saying: "there's somebody out there for everyone." When I was 15 or 16 that made me feel better, when I'm 20 it seems like there truly is no hope for me, and giving up seems easier and easier. But even giving up takes effort, planning etc. But I'll give myself until Dec. 31st, 2006 to find somebody or anybody. I seem to remember drinking in my new year this year making my final resolution to never spend another new year alone again. Well I'll give myself that deadline, beyond that, it's not up to me anymore. So I close my eyes one more time and pray to nothing that this will end. But for some reason, optimism seems futile, and futility the norm. This isn't great writing, but it's true to me, so who cares.

Oh sweet rage!
Devine Jelousy
Sacred Hate!
Happiness is
weakness,
contentment
the enemy
Desire,
Longing,
Pain!
Silence of the heart
Damned emotion
Cursed hope
Hidden cell
Within my soul
This is all I am

So I just got threatened at work for the first time. A guy told me that he's going to rip out my F*cking heart.

What's funny is that I've always laughed at people talking about threats, and I laughed on the surface, but that kind of affected me. Am I so cold hearted that I can laugh at somebody dyeing without a refridgerator, but so sensitive that when someone makes an arbitrary threat like he did that I get a little shaken up? Am I truly incapable of feeling emotion towards other people? I'm sure that's not the case, but being affected like I was with that guy. Ugh, maybe it's just that I'm tired. I'm really, really tired today, I stayed up till three last night, not really doing anything, well laundry and I woke up at 9:30. Maybe I'm just tired today, and being tired I'm actually affected by these pathetic peeons that call other pathetic peeons for trouble with appliances and other useless items. Maybe I'm caring, or not caring, or maybe I'm just too tired to care.

My uncle has always said that there's two sides to him. One that he shows people, the slightly wild but "normal" person, and the rebel raging inside, mad at the world. I always thought I had the same thing. I realized today that even though I have the same situation going, I let my angry side out way too much. And there is a specific story behind that, though for one reason or another I'm reluctant to write about it. But here it is:

I was sitting at my desk talking religion etc. With the redneck girl next to me, and for some reason, Charles Manson was brought into the conversation. I told her, I think he should write a book, and then she was all, "I feel sorry for you." So I told her, I don't want your sympathy.

Why do people feel sorry for me, I don't give a fu*k what other people think. Well at least I pretend to and I desperately don't want to care. Why don't I just clam up and learn to hate like I used to.

In high school I had such an idealized version of the world, well not idealized but clear. I used to hate people until they gave me a reason not to, I would rather be hated than ignored. I knew what I wanted and to hell with the rest of the world. Now after high school and a few more experiences, I thought I was maturing by learning to trust people unless the gave me a reason not to, etc. Even liking people unless the gave me a reason not to. I've been seeking approval from the world that shunned me for so long, and I ask myself, WHY?!?

Why do I need approval now from a world that has shunned me. I have a little success in life and I want a pat on the head and somebody to say good job? I never got that growing up, I didn't get it anywhere else in life, why do I want it now. The answer is simple, I DON'T!

Somehow my glasses have been tinted rose by vacation and success. Now that optimism has been sufficiently ripped away from me, and I see the world as the bleak and bitter excuse for life that it is.

It's occurred to me that Disneyland is in the past, and dwelling on the past isn't healthy. It also occurred to me that I've been dwelling in the past too much lately. Recently my life has been about dwelling in the lessons of past failures. Maybe because I feel to comfortable in my life right now. But it's not comfort that I feel, yeah I'm secure in a job and an apartment, but something's gnawing away at my sub-conscience again. And maybe it's been there for a while now because I'm just now starting to become aware of it. But I don't like being content. It's really as simple as that, if I'm not striving for something or struggling then life gets boring. And of course the real issue that I'm trying to avoid due to the fact that this blog is know to too many people is . . . well I just can't say right now. I want to say, but I feel putting it into words will somehow jinx it. Let it be sufficient to say that I spent 4-5 hours cleaning my apartment working towards an elusive goal that so far seems close but just out of reach. Alas how did I put it once: "boundless failures of past lives besiege me as I rest." Well I'm sick of being attacked by past failures, tonight, we Drink! (well rather I drink, but you get the point)

Vacation Day 3, D-DAY!!!

• Woke up and smoked a cigarette, a smoking room without ashtrays?
• Still don't know what town this is, just a truck stop with a zip code I guess.
• Hmmm McDonald's.
• A stop for gas and Jerky.
• Purple penguins Penetrate Private People's Pianos.
• Wow, now I know what people mean when they say the Valley.
• What great views entering LA, kind of like going into or out of Yakima.
• Hollywood!
• The sign is WAY smaller than I thought it would be.
• Hollywood Blvd, it's cool, but yeah it's run down.
• Amazing, I saw Marilyn Monroe's cement thing at that theater.
• Yey Stuff!
• OMG Disneyland! yey, Yey, YEY!!!!!
• Hollywood tower of Terror, now that was fun, AHHHHH!!!!
• Soaring over California, a 45 minute wait for a three minute movie, yeah.
• Grizzly River Run, three times in a row!! We were all SOOOO soaked.
• Carly got the worst of it, so they're hiding in the Hotel. As for me, Fantasmic!!
• Fastasmic was basically a stoner's dream, all lights and fire on the water, purple teddy bears, yeah, still entirely worth the hour wait.
• Sharing a room with Sue and DJ, it could be worse, Sue's putting up with my messiness okay.

I keep meaning to write about my vacation, I wanted to do it in a more creative way, but it seems the further away I get from it, the harder it is to remember. So let me just make a list of things I did and places I went and what I felt about them etc. So it won't be the long rambling after the fact journal that I wanted, but here's something anyway.

Vacation day 2, d day minus 1

• Woke up at 4 am after going to bed after 1 am
• I can't believe I'm going to be spending countless hours in THAT seat
• Picked up Sue and DJ, We can't believe it's finally here!!
• Stopped in Roseburg, bought the new engergy drink that drinks like a soda
• Is it healthy to smoke three cigarettes in 15 minutes?
• Stopped again in Ashland, Sobe Engery Drinks aren't carbonated, lol
• Skipped Medford, and onto Weed.
• Weed is just a truck stop, but the views of Mt. Shasta are Amazing.
• Just outside of Weed and it's snowing in the middle of Spring!
• We're running SO behind schedule!
• Onto Redding and $0.20 tacos, Yum!
• Yey, we're stopping after Sacramento, my knees hurt so bad in this little seat.
• An hour after Sacramento and still no stop.
• Oh thank God, a rest stop.
• Three miles down the road, we see a town with a truck stop, ugh!
• Another rest stop, oooh look an Ice cream machine
• $2.00 for an ice cream bar, but it was SOOO cool with a tube with a vacume, it looked like a claw machine!
• On to In and Out, lol.
• In and out, it's SO crowded and the menu is simple.
• Good food, not impressed by the fries though.
• A stop at a Motel 6, yey I got a smoking room for under $40, what a steel.
• Yey Sopranos, damn tv is too dark to watch though.

As much as I would love to continue with that journal there are a few things that I need to say. One: what is up with that Iran situation? This Iran leader who doesn't believe in the holocaust and believes in the eradication of Israel is on the fast track to nuclear weapons. Though he claims the nuclear research is entirely for the purpose of power plants. Let me ask you this, why does Iran need nuclear power? They're sitting on more oil than the US could ever hope to have, why do they need any other source of power? And Bush being Bush is salivating over the chance to invade another middle eastern country. I read in a random article in wikipedia that one of the signs of the end of time is a super power invading three middle eastern countries under the pretense of peace. Something about this situation seems wrong, you know bush desperately wants to invade Iran, and Iran isn't doing anything to stop him. Are they co-operating in some conspiracy to bring about the end of times? Probably not, but am I the only one that has a REALLY bad feeling about this?

Vacation Day 1, D-day -2

Morning:
I woke up this morning almost packed, and then I realized I don't have to go to work for the next week and a half! I kind of sorta finished packing (well I'm almost done I promise!) And I actually did my dishes. So now it's 11:30 I'm sitting at my computer smoking something like my 8th cigarette of the day with all my windows open and the sun out, this is amazing! I don't have to work for over a week, no more pouty customers or whining bosses. No more "thank you for calling customer service" or "I apologize for the inconvenience". A week of sun and cuties, of fun and adventure. Hmm, all that talk of sun makes me think Arby's. I'll be back, but first a call to see when I'm leaving.

Later:
Can you believe it, I walked down stairs and up the road and it started to drizzle, so I thought "I'm an oregonian, I can handle a little rain," by the time I got to the end of the block and I'm thinking about a chicken core don bleu, and then it starts to down pore" So now I'm home a . . .
So I just got a phone call, g-ma says she'll be here at 3 or so to take me to Springfield. Now it's about 1:30, hopefully my pizza gets here before g-ma does. Yum BBQ chicken pizza! The good news is I'm already to go, this will be my last entry tonight, but I'll write from my lap top later.

So now is that time for a complete entry on my Vacation, what I'm going to do is not so much an essay, but a journal after the fact. So I'm going to relive every day and every thing done at Disneyland and on the way to and from. From where I went to what I ate and bought and any emotional reactions. The only trouble with emotions and feelings about other people is that my family reads this, so I have to be careful on what I say. Sorry for fans of raw emotion, my feelings will be diplomatic at best and mildly frustrated at worst. Alas, here is my journal after the fact:

Now there is a time and a place for a proper Disneyland review. Where all three of you that read this can experience all the emotional highs and lows of a family trip, something like 24 hrs. total in a car with maybe a cubic foot of space for my feet and my car stuff. No that will be for a later post, worked upon for hours and hours all for the enjoyment my three biggest fans.

No for now, I will focus on being back to work since that is where I now find myself. What follows is an angry and depressed rant mixed liberally with shots of fatigue. So here it is: So I came into work and I now that I'm here it's like sitting in a corner. It's like all the "cool" people got together when I was gone and decided they didn't like me any more. It's like this is goddamned survivor and I got voted off the island. Let's kick Jason in the B*LLS as soon as his back is turned. These people are just jellous of my amazing vacation!

A few things to say today. First: I love Coke Zero, it is my current pop of choice from my local vending machine, and for $1 a piece from machines, who can complain. It's not as sweet as diet coke, though to say it tastes like coke would be a lie. I don't really like coke, though for a while diet coke was okay. The taste is more like mild coke flavor, not as sweet as either coke or diet coke. The point being, I love it, I love it, I LOVE IT :)

In other and more pressing news: two days till Disneyland, or a matter of 4 hrs. And 42 minutes of work :) This maybe be my last post before Disneyland, so wish me luck. Will a mild, but fiercely independent fool be able to adapt to family life for a week of innocent fun. Of course, what do I know of innocence? Purity maybe, but innocence was robbed for my young. Alas, it's the happiest place on earth, who can't be happy, and driving is half the fun :)

Amazing, and studpendous and perfectly prestine, lessthan a week we shall be gracing the big D with ourpresence.

Why do I even write in this any more? Why do I do any thing any more? Life is the futile persuit of distraction, and as much as I strive for distraction, it never works. And though I am aware of the futility, acceptence does not come with realiziation. It's like an athiest recieving a sign from God, he believed all his life that there was nothing to the universe except for random events, and then there God is, in all his bitter glory. Would the athiest accept God, or would he justify it, only to have his sub-concience gnaw at him until one day, months or years after the experience, he realizes, behold the Devine Obscurity! As it is with the athiest, it is with me. I've tried all my life to put meaning into all that I do, and when I learn that there truly is nothing, I still try to find meaning. Eventually it gnaws deep enough into my soul, so one morning I'll wake up and smile. For that day is the day where the obsurdity, obscurity and overwhelming sense of nothing will come over me, and then and only then, can I accept "LIFE IN THE PERSUIT OF DISTRACTION!"

Why do I even try? It's as simple as that, why do I try to get ahead, why do I suck up to these people for a job that I knew I wouldn't get? Honestly why do I even try to be anything more than a lowly phone monkey? It didn't matter that I've worked every day since last Saturday knowing that saying no keep me from getting the job. It doesn't matter that I've been doing my bosses bitch work for weeks trying to get the job. It doesn't even matter that everything that I've done since getting turned down for it last time has been centered on getting this new job. Nothing really matters. At least they could have sent me a different e-mail from what they sent me last time I didn't get this. I think I deserve more than a form letter. Or maybe I don't, maybe they don't respect me or my ability. Maybe this truly is just a job, and they really can take this job. And to top it all off my F*checking computer broke last night!! There really is no point to it all, is there? You try to get ahead in the world, and you get kicked right back down. I knew this before, and somehow I made myself believe that there is a point to it all. That there really is more to life than distraction. I knew before that you're born and you die, and everything else is the pursuit of distraction. I knew it before, and I've learned it again. It's amazing how a little hope will pollute a perfectly pessimistic mind. Pessimism is depression, to be pessimistic is to view life through clear lenses instead of the proverbial rose colored lenses. Optimism is over rated, and I don't want to be here, so these ass holes can go to hell, damn my compliance, I just don't care anymore.

Yey, only 14 more days! And they call me in, I'm so sick of kissing ass at this place just to get a job that I will never get. I do so much extra work, In ever say no to coming in, even though I haven't had a day off since LAST saturday, at this rate I won't get a day off 'till my vacation in 14 days, or14*8=10*8=80 + 4* 8=32 so 112 working hours. That's assuming I don't get a day off until disneyland, which at this point seems likely. I heard a nice little happy rumor yesterday though. The decision is in fact split between me and one other person, and my boss Carol wants to choose me, but they're getting other input at the moment. But somehow I don't care right now, I'm SOOO tired, they called me at 7:30 and I wentto bed last night around 3 or 4. Somehow 4 hrs of sleep at the most, is sadly inadaquite. I'm nodding off right now, but on the bright side, only 8 1/2 hrs left before I can go home and do laundry :D I think I'll take a nap now, ha ha. But right now I'm reallynot liking my job. Of course I could have said no,but the person making the final decision about the job called me personally, if I said "no" it would just look so bad. Goddamit, I'm so tired of waiting to here if I got the job or not, I know I probably didn't get it, but at least they can tell me so I don't work14 days in a row fearing that saying no would make me look bad. Well this is getting long and wine-y so Ishould stop. But think of it, 14 days from this verymoment, we will be on our way to cal-i-forn-i-a!

Some people just make me mad. I know there are mature ways of dealing with anger, like discussing it with the person you're angry with. I know there are Immature ways of dealing with it, like yelling and screaming, or going behind people's back etc. Or do it my way: let the anger flare then subside, ignore something long enough at it usually goes away. But on a happier note, two weeks from today I'll be running around like the proverbial chicken trying to get ready for disneyland all the while trying to figure out what I forgot! :)

22 days till Disneyland, and all is well, I'm so anxious to get away from work, I really don't want to be here today :( Well I guess today is my Monday, so maybe that's why I don't want to be here. I work my butt off for this company, and sometimes I'm just not appreciated like I should be. But I think I'll just grit my teeth for 22 more days and then I'll be able to go to sleep on the 23rd and think that I won't have to work for over a week, I'll stop thinking about it etc. So when I come back in April, I'll be ready to go for all that I need to do. 22 more days, that's only 176 working hours, a pay day and a half. I thought I would be so excited once I saw my vacation on my calendar, but it still seems SOOOOO far away.

Ha ha,I'm so excited, I came back from my lunch to see a new senior rep. possistion open, so I promtly updated my resume, filled out the application and turned it all in within an hour of the possistion posting. Of course I probably won't get it, because there are people here with more experience than me. People that have applied more than twice for the possistion and have been doing this kind of work longer than I've been alive. But still I have support of my two immediate supervisors, and I know what I'm doing. Though they did give a week to apply this time, so more people will apply this time. So I won't get my hopes up too high, but it's still nice to think about. Well I'll tell myself that I'm not getting my hopes up too high this time, but I know I will, and when I don't get it I'll be devastated again. But by the time I learn I did not get the job (sometime middle of next week)I'll be close to pay day and I'll see Disneyland will be less than 20 days away.
Do you think that it would be bad to mention that every thing I have done at this job since getting turned down for the position last time has been centered on getting this position this time? From checking call logs to making call backs, from socializing with new reps to building trust with the old ones, it's all been to get this job. I know that no matter how prepared I am for the interview this time, no matter what I do, I'm sure that there's nothing I can do to get the job.

I find myself falling into old patterns, as much as I've learned, it means nothing. I am still the friend and not the bf. They come to me for guidance and when they need something, I don't want to be the wuss, but here I am. How can I do this after all I've learned? I'm so mad at myself for doing this again, no matter how hard I try I'll still the person that gets walked all over. The only difference is that I know what I'm doing this time, but what good does that do when I can't stop it? There is so much more to say and I should have stopped there, but I don't know how to stop. I don't care anymore, I just want to drink myself stupid and curse my naivete, I'm so sick of being this way. God help me to break my patterns! I need these to go away. So perfectly content to be alone when hope peaks it's ugly head I jump at it the same way I've always jumped at it, and it never works. I need to stop this, but I don't know how. God how I need help, why can't I be content to be alone any more? I didn't realize how alone I was until I thought I might not be. And now I do the same things I've always done and it never works. I know it's not that I'm fat and ugly, though that has a lot to do with it. I know that I always become the wuss friend to girls that show a little interest, and they never show any more. What I don't understand is how I can see this happening and do nothing about it! Oh how I need help, even to be content in being alone again. Or to accept the futility of life one more time, that's all I want. I don't mind being lonely, but hope comes into the equation it makes lonely so much worse. I don't care any more, I just want to drink myself into oblivion and become friends with addiction one last time.