Skip to main content

FLOGBOOK

Getting so tired...inside. In my soul. In my head. In the little parts of me that still held some light.
They're fading, giving in to the night inside my mind. Black ink seeping under locked doors...staining the brightness, drowning the flames I kept that that lit the way. 


Opinions are like farts, sometimes we expell them in the wrong company. ~LRM


The only way to best a crazy person is to simply be crazier. ~LRM

"It's like having a part of your heart, your soul, your lung, just walking around outside of you on their own, out of your protective reach." ~When Your Children Move Away/LRM

"If you're going to get butt-hurt that easily, you'd better stay off the internet." ~LRM/Oct. 8, 2012
  
Why don't the killers or zombies ever trip & fall? Especially the ones with masks, you know their vision is all restricted & shit, and zombies, FFS! They always have a freakin' kneecap on backwards or at least a really wrong looking broken ankle and still, haulin' zombie ass over fields & through woods, they manage to sure foot it all the way while everyone else is flailing & falling like oxygen masks in a plane crash. I can't even walk Toby over the property's lawn without finding the ankle buster holes.
  
So, every
time I go "out" I have pretty messed up social anxiety and I don't like "going out", so I always think of this exact face and exact line just before I step out. 

 
I figure, I can't be anyone else but me, love me or hate me, I'm annoying and strange as fuck, but here I am;

 ~*I Am A Wanton And Unrepentant Whore. I Will Not Apologize For Who And What I Am*~*LRM

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Mess Of Writing

So, some of you know I pretend to be a writer. I was a prolific and mildly talented writer in my past. I dreamed novel sized stories, but could never get past the short ones, there were a couple I wrote out to 150 pages with the outline and general story written out, but they died there. It took me years to both realize and then accept, that I was no good at anything but some hybrid of prose and poetry that is heavily non conforming to the accepted rules of writing, grammar and english. My problem is rooted somewhere in one or more of my mental illnesses, I just can't absorb nor comprehend (translate to an understandable example) accepted structure and rules for any type of writing.  The words go down on the paper the way they come into my head. They don't want to be amended, they come into my head the way my mind perceives them to be correct and meaningful to what I am trying to express, which in my skewed brain, is the correct form, again, to ME, but maybe not to anyone else....

Just Think Blogsitive

For whatever reason, Facebook altering the "mood" of the Feed or just people picking up on the same theme of a few reposted sayings; I've been seeing so much over the last few weeks about thinking/being positive and being happy is a choice. Believe me you, I tried. I tried so hard for so long. It was like mining, every day I would go to work with my pick and with everything I had, go at that dark, stifling underground of resistant rock with my polished, shining pick, flashing brilliantly in the dust filled muted ray of light struggling down, striking in a dazzling tiny shower of sparks, tiny stars lighting the edge of the black hole lurking beside me, that feeling of what could be hidden just below the surface, something amazing just waiting for the proper angle of my next strike...that never comes. Oh, I get the thin, reedy vein of something momentarily in the right light flashing and promising...it may be a lesser find. It will momentarily fund the repair of my pick or...

Seriously?

Originally Written by the13thcynic October 6, 2009 at 5:13 PM I cannot be serious. Seriously. I can’t. I keep trying and it never works, I just can’t BE serious. I can fully appreciate serious and situations that are… I can understand it, hold it, feel it, express it in other ways, I just cannot *be…have* nor verbally reply seriously unless I really fight to accomplish such. Felt the need to see it in words. Carry on then. I am not stupid. I am not shallow. I’m not unfeeling nor simple, clueless, ridiculous, uneducated, uncultured or ignorant. I’m just me. Which is a bit more than a bit much to take for some.