THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
I don't know. I need a conscious free zone to just cry and be horrible sometimes. To just be a total useless shit and whine about things instead of, you know, taking some sort of adult road.
I hate Christmas, and I know why I hate it, and I hate the reason why more than I hate it itself.
It makes me mad. I'm such a jealous person around this time. Like, seething, miserable jealousy. And I'm never like that outside, and it's not even until you hit about as deep down as you can get, because I'm rationalizing all of it back on the outside, but it's always been there, and I don't know why I can't get the right ideas all the way through.
I feel like the kind of person I hate, but I hate all this stupid, useless shit people get me. I hate that I never get them anything back and then hate every single they get me except exactly what I picked out for myself.
I hate that there's always so little of it, too, and I hate that I know exactly why there is what there is and that the amount is more than reasonable, but I hate that everyone around me comes out with pockets full of gold and I've got a single nickel. My friends are not wealthier than I am, at least not substantially so, but they get every single thing they want. Every single fucking thing they ask for. Anytime of the year.
I work for everything.
For everything.
I'm lucky to get what I get, but I hate it all because everyone around me has such amazing stupid, frivolous things. Everything has always been way above and beyond mine- And mine is always amazing. I sound so spoiled when I say this.
Last year, I got an iPod and a camera. Before that, I got a laptop. This year, I got a sewing machine and my grandfather's car.
What I get I use every single day. I use it, and I need it to do what I do and get where I want to get.
But all this other stupid shit- It makes me so mad. You know, I wouldn't ever ask for forty CD's and all these clothes and shit, but even if I did, I'd never fucking get them. They get them every single fucking time.
Every time.
No matter what.
And you know, the other part- I don't want to be ungrateful. I don't. Really. But you get me such useless stupid shit. I don't want any of it.
You know, all these stupid fucking toys and hair shit- They're really nice if I'm nine, but I'm just fucking not. And I really appreciate the fact that you get them for me, and I know you spend money on them, but seriously.
I don't know what the fuck you expect me to do with them. And I feel so bad about it, but I'm just gonna end up throwing most of this stupid shit away. I don't have the space for it or the use. I have enough crap all over the place, I don't really need bags more- Especially crap that I don't even really like.
The intention is appreciated. Please, for the love of God, just get me what I ask for and nothing else.
Also, and I am actually mad about this- If you're gonna tell me you're going to get me something expensive to replace my broken one, please actually do it. Because now I'm broke and can't pay for one, and still need it. It makes me mad. I could have bought myself one if you had just told me.
That really does piss me off.
I really need a new one, or at least I need new headphones or something and I'm heading off to fucking New Orleans to pull out tree stumps or whatever the fuck we're doing and it's not like I can buy anything there. At least not really.
But, I don't know. I hate feeling the way I do- It's so shitty, but I do. I love the makeup so much and my watch is so beautiful and the bracelet is too, and the sewing machine is amazing- I didn't expect you to get me a new one, but still.
Jesus, though.
I hate myself on birthdays and holidays. I hate that I've never spent one single one without one note of disappointment. How horrible is that, right?
I don't know. It brings back weird family stuff. I don't understand families, but that's a whole other story.
I don't really love any of them?
They're just people I spend time with by force. I might just be sitting in algebra class with them.
But, whatever.
I really do need to talk to Sarah. I feel like she could sort me out, or at least make me feel worse in a way that was better for me. I miss her so much and I think that if there was one person in the whole world who deserved a good Christmas, it would be her.
Anyway, here's to the new year, since I won't be here.
I intend for total self reinvention. I wish it was the kind of thing I could explain to... Anyone around me. They just wouldn't get it. I feel like I'm really far away from some of them, at least in terms of passion behind beliefs. There are just some things I need to do for myself and if it means changing the way I am viewed not just by the outside world but by those in my close circle, then I believe it's still right.
Don't you get it, though?
I have always been who I am but it's about fucking time I allow it to be projected. I'm old enough to know shame where shame is due, and it just isn't here. I'm spectacular. I deserve to be regarded as such, in every single way, and I don't need to sit around wishing things were different. I will make them different. Just you fucking watch, I swear.
I will stitch every single thread in four thousand feet of fabric if it means getting where is necessary. And I will just learn how to do everything to stop relying on the poor skills of those around me.
If self projection means making and doing absolutely every single thing myself, then that's what I'll do. None of this other stupid shit matters anymore, and I don't have time to pretend that it does.
There is no reason to just dream things.
I will make them, and I will make them however hard it is.
I have always been determined, but I feel like I finally have some focus.
And the fact that most all of it is focused on me doesn't actually bother me.
Art is the most self indulgent practice imaginable. There are no sacrifices. Only self-flattery.
I'll work my fingers til they bleed, and I won't do it to show any of you that I can, but I'll do it to show that it doesn't matter whether or not you know I can.
I've got enough demons. I don't need anyone else to try to add themselves to the list because they think they matter to me.
They don't.
End of the day, being solid in my own body is enough.