If I can muster the strength to write this down without clowning around or digressing too much that would be a nice thing.
My question: Why am I sober now. It’s 7:30 PM. No wait, not that. Sober. HOW am I sober? Well you see, we’ve been doing a lot of good things. I adjusted my meds to suit my needs, I’m taking the klonopin again (helpful benzo), I went to some nature walking the last few days, I am occuppying myself with Magic, video games still suck, I can’t program anything because fuck that shit, um, the family is meh, mom kind of fucks everything up, father is belligerent, dangerous, and abusive, the brother is nice and cool when he’s not pissed off or angry at me. So I’d say things are going pretty well. I guess the main thing to do for the rest of the evening is not drink. Problem is, activities in negative seldom pan out well, and are a ton of effort. If only I could find something amusing to distract myself with. I’m not sure what that would be. Of course, I am writing this, here, now, in this, this blog, which is like… a couple spare minutes. Like bobby pins or what are they called–bowling pins. Pick up the spare, earn extra credit. What a restrictive lifestyle, though. America is a fucking police state. I’m not participating in any rallies or protests, but the people who do, well, I don’t want to get involved, so let’s just leave it at that. I do my own work behind the scenes.
People sure are sensitive. I’m not used to this game. Never been fond of comparing life to a game. Seems to trivialize the suffering.
I should probably change my health insurance policy once my current plan runs out. It’s mega expensive monthly but like a hospital visit is not so expensive. I think I ought to pay more out of pocket and a little less monthly. It makes sense that way to me. I’ve been very financially minded lately, a little too much, but, I mean, if there’s any success stories in the last year, it’s me staying on top of my finances. You’d think micromanaging it would be bad, but, somehow I pulled it off. I still have a ton of savings, cash, investments, and retirement funds. Wow. Something isn’t totally fucked up. Weird, huh?
Poetry. Should write more poetry. Not feeling it. What can say. Gato gato gato.
Tree outside the window is red. It’s a red tree. Strange.
Have too many notebooks. Trying to stay organized. Separate notebook for different things. To each its own. Notebooks have rights too, you know.
Hate’s legal. Look at all these pissy pants panzies with pre-emptive aggression. Fucking tards. Roided up stoners. I don’t even know what to say.
It would be nice not to get b& from WordPress. I value my blogosphere like the next customer. Where would I write if not in the public domain? All my dirty fucking secrets spilled all over the counter like blood. Lap that shit up, dogs. It tastes good.
So on to more pedantic things.
I’ll have to shave my beard (Hey you! Neckbeard! (said no one ever (no one likes me *cries*))), bathe, shower my hair to get rid of all the flakes and stuff, clip nails, like, do the things that regular people do on a regular basis, I’ll have to do it before my interviews on Tuesday. Tuesday Tuesday Tuesday. People sure do know a whole lot. *rolls eyes*
Martinez is a weird town. On the one hand some folk here are batshit insane. On the other hand it’s pretty budget-friendly and has some sights. Just take a gander at them smokestacks. Hella FFVII.
Staring at boobs and ass all day. Not a good way to go out.
Well I guess my brain is working. That’s fortunate. I still don’t get why the doctors wanted me to quit kratom, though. They didn’t even prescribe me opiates to substitute for my pain management. Fucking retards. Can’t wait until my medical access is restored. They are such lawsuit fodder. Don’t go to Oakland, folks. Fart.
Fart fart fart.
Um, my digestion is working its way on through. I mean, it’s getting better. I’m force-feeding myself less, less out of guilt for my mother’s overcooking, I mean, I don’t just like eat out of guilt. I think that came through loud and clear. Like I said, she mostly fucks everything up and then gets all, many negative emotions.
I don’t know why my laptop’s fan is always maxed out. Whirr whirr. Strange. Should’ve returned the lappy soon as received. I’ve had it for like 3 years now more or less on straight and I don’t know what to say. It’s less of a lappy and more of a crappy. I even put crappy stickers on it in an exquisitely ugly arrangement. Man am I tired of yelling at people.
Most of the time I don’t want to talk business to strangers. Rude strangers. Business to rude strangers. Do not want that. Well anyway somehow the slime sneaks into my life and tries to sell me things but eh you get through it and at the end of the day you just sort of set the paycheck on fire cuz what is it worth anyway. Like I said: sober.
At least the government is paying me.
Really would like this proteomics job at Genentech. I better interview well! I don’t feel like reviewing what I did in grad school. It was so long ago and, yes, I have a copy of my thesis, but fuck that if you’re expecting me to like read it the whole way through just for one fucking interview with egomaniacal horseshit Genentech. Pretentious pricks. I’m sure they’re very nice people with very nice facilities. I am, of course, referring to the bathrooms.
But it would be sweet to work there. What can I say. I want a good job.
I definitely fell into a pretty deep hole, though. Not like, depression, just, fucking up after fucking up after fucking up. I guess I was “responsible” for it all. No one contributed shit points whatsoever. No one helped me on the way to the grave. Bastards. Uncaring bastards. (That is a difficult word to type out. Try it!)
I don’t know what the next word that belongs on this page is. I don’t know where to go or what to do. If I have all the answers–I don’t have all the answers. Wicked demeanor, sly something something something I guess it’s not so important.
I’m behind on my language lessons. Like, didn’t see that one coming, at all. *rolls eyes*
This ergonomic mouse is fucking sweet.
There’s so much to catch up on. Beside just living in a dumpster fire for so long, I actually, also, additionally, missed out on a lot! The world sort of just passed me by. I don’t want to say the R word, but it is a process. As with any. It’s like, you kind of have to re-learn how to be alive. Who knew being alive required brain cells, like, who knew it was a skill. I thought you could just be alive but Nope I guess some people (*points finger at self*) are just that stupid. Wah-wah.
Could use more cardio. The meds fucked with my heart big time. It was mega dangerous. I totally think my ex-psychiatrist could get sued, but he probably won’t. Well I’m at a lower dose now which is good, while still at a dose at all which is also good. Stable mood is your friend.
Lifestyle adjustments mega-importante. Super essential. Crux of any life is lifestyle. To some, perhaps, an abstract notion, but I understand what it means. Could explain if you were interested. But you’re not interested. I won’t tell you what you are. You know. You know all too well.
Not that I have anywhere to go or anything to do, but this feels like a good place to stop for now. Thus adjourns my session of weaponized internet usage. Bombs have been dropped and innocent civilians slaughtered, but beside that nothing was lost. Say I say thee, adieu, for now, and more soon/later. Adios.