*Listening to NIN, Things Falling Apart, but I have the Doom Song stuck in my head*

Death becomes you. Because you are the incarnation
of death, also known by the name spoken by
trembling lips... THANATOS! No, you're not all
that bad. It's not like you actually kill
humans, you just take the souls that need
measuring for heaven or hell. But damn, you are
SO misunderstood!

What Incarnation of Immortality are you? (wonderful pictures)
brought to you by Quizilla

Anyone else hungry for cheese grits?

Your Inner Kitty by gifted_one
Username
Fur length	Medium
Colors	Brown Tabby, green eyes
Kitty accessories	None
Favorite thing to say	"Pet me! Pet me!"
# of lives you have left	5
Created with the ORIGINAL MemeGen!

Angel Style by greymentality
Name/Username
First Impression from Others	Others feel safe and warm inside your arms
Your Core	Explorer. You are your own Angel.
Potential to Stray from the Light: 79%
Your Weakness	You aren't truly happy of your service
Your Strength	You ride Binky, the Pale horse. :)
Your Wings	Invisible most of the time, but dark gray the rest
Your Focus	Kindness
Created with the ORIGINAL MemeGen!

There I go.. being Death again.

type your username with your:
nose: fy67xaqtion (>.>)
elbow: fyhx astgkiolmn (uh...)
tongue: fyxation (great, now there's spit on my keyboard)
chin: rfdyhgas (oh fuck it)
feet: fyxcastiolmn (right.)
palm: fyhx aztgiion (<.<)
mouse: fyxation
wrist: gfujyasjkmtglomn (...)

I'll go stare at the ceiling now.

There's something about this constant rain and the deep, rolling thunder that puts me in a lethargic and day-dreamy state. Everything seems slower, stickier. And everything's sweeter. My rats are lying stretched out and on their bellies. My plants are lush and sprouting. The cats are curled up little blobs of fur and fat on my bed. I have a window open so I can listen to the rainfall splattering against the maple tree. A single large candle sits glowing on my desk. And, damn, that breeze is just about the best thing I've felt in weeks.

If it could stay like this forever, I wouldn't mind. Of course, I'd eventually be swept away, but who's paying attention? I walked out into the front yard and washed my feet in the puddles and on the spring grass. I'd like, just for a little while, to lie down in it and soak away the heat of an early summer.

Goddamn, I'm such a hippy.

Today might just be the day that I fill out that separation notice for work. Nothing imparticular happened. It's just been grating on me more and more and more and more with each passing day. I was hoping to switch departments, right? Well, I keep getting told, "You'll be on their schedule next week." I've heard that about 3 times now. And even if I were to switch departments, I know that I wouldn't get a pay raise. So... to hell with it. I'm tired of picking up other people's slack. I'm tired of my coke-head supervisor. I'm tired of pushing products on people like I'm on commission when I'M NOT.

Hmm... choices. I gotta get that financial aid form turned in, but I'm not sure how many credits I'll be signing up for this fall.

I've been in a sour mood lately... just cold and pissy with everyone. Don't take it personally. I'm trying my best to stay indoors to avoid pissing the wrong person off. This also saves me money. And I'm a greedy bitch :D

I slept too much. I don't even remember what time I went to bed last night, but I know that it was early because I had intended to take a nap. Well, I just crawled out of bed about five minutes ago. Man, I had some fucked up dreams.

So, I guess this is how it's going to be for a while now... Either I sleep too much or don't get enough. It's a lovely pattern. Great for the blood pressure.

My mother probably thinks I don't care about her now. She called some time yesterday and wanted me to drive her to her therapist today. It's only in Nicholasville, but apparently she doesn't feel "well" enough to drive there. Truthfully, she was pouring on the guilt, and I think she had some right to. I feel guilty now, anyway. I never called her back because my ass was sleeping.

I know that she's going through a lot right now. I know she has practically no one to turn to. And I know that wanting her to be my parent instead of the other way around makes me look like a selfish bitch. Welcome to Selfish Bitch Enterprise. I don't do anything for anyone! I am the laziest person I know. Cheers.

Take the quiz: "Which Random Irish Gaelic Phrase Are You? "

Is maith liom bananai
Is maith liom bananai - 'I like bananas.'You're laid-back and you enjoy the simple things in life. Some might say you're a little too laid-back. Just what is it you're smoking, anyway?

Eheheheh... This doesn't surprise me.

I soooo skipped going to that meeting this morning. >:D I woke up at, like, 6:30... and I said to myself, "You know, I prefer sleep to working. I could sleep anywhere... cardboard box... grass... zzzz." So, I'll probably have a nice write up waiting for me on Tuesday. OH WELL! Fuck that place in the ear. How many times have I said or written that? It may hurt my income a little bit, but I can live with that. I've been hording money lately for just that purpose. Mmmyep.

>.>

rarrr... drinking too much Mountain Dew and eating sugary stuff and pizza and smoking too many cigarettes until 3am... bad idea. Especially since I have a meeting to go to at 7am. FARK. Oh well... it's just three hours of BS, then I can come home and sleep until I become one with my mattress. I don't mind nerdy socializing with friends. Four people in one apartment... not so bad, even if I kept getting slapped on the ass all night. *evil glare of doom*

Woof.

Guh... coming down from caffeine/sugar/nicotine buzz... bad. Crash immenent. Immenemenent. Immmerrrr... moo.

Hmm. For some reason, I can't stop thinking about you. Man, that sucks.

Fyx, please don't give up on us. I know it hurts and I know it's easier to not deal with it, but what other life have you got to work with? Life is, after all, a work in progress. It is what you make of it.

Life is not being with other people. Life is not having to deal with vapid banter of the masses. Life is what you make it. And I would like to make mine without all that shit. Which is near impossible and one of the many reasons I am unhappy. Life, mere existence, is waking up and being able to do whatever you damn well please because you are capable. Why should I be told by the television, books, magazines, government, media (in general) how to live my life?

Going to parties does not make me happy. Faking enthusiasm when I'm at parties or other social events does not make me happy.

I've virtually stopped watching television. Everything on there, when it's not trying to drive fear into you (fear being alone, fear not having a family, fear having a kitchen floor that isn't lemon scented, fear feeling not-so-fresh, fear the government, fear being left out of ANYTHING, fear what people will think of you if you don't drive the newest and fastest car), is softening our brains. I can't watch a talk show for five minutes without wanting to throw up.

But that's beside the point. No, I wouldn't say I'm giving up on humanity. I don't think there's anything to hold onto in the first place. Everything that we place value on is made up. The things that I want out of life have nothing to do with other people. No, Krystalstar, it doesn't hurt that people are retarded. It doesn't hurt trying to accept them. It pisses me off. I have no patience anymore. There is no good or evil. There is human. And we're the dumbest species on the planet.

You know, I've never wanted to fit in or be a "pretty people." In fact, most of my life, I've tried hard to be anything but. I actually get pissed off when I'm hit on. Yesterday, for instance, some creepy fuck was talking to my coworker about me while I was standing right next to them. The coworker later told me what was said and I wanted to puke on his shoes. I mean, what the fuck? Is there no possible way to be unattractive? There's always going to be someone, no matter how fugly you are... and they're usually fuglier than you.

My head hurts. I'm sleeping.

Sometimes, I am barely awake long enough to wipe the crust from my eyes. Other days, I can't brush the world off my shoulder.

I'm getting to the point where I don't wanna leave the house. Call it laziness, being anti-social. You'd be right on both counts. But a third confession, I must make, is that I abhor people. Their shitty values, lack of wits, and herd mentality. Wear this or you don't belong. Drive this or you don't belong. Shave this or you don't belong. And I'm supposed to want to belong? Did I miss that day in school that they taught us to follow the crowd and struggle to be accepted? Oh, wait, that was school. More of America's fear-driven tactics to make everyone pretty, popular, and maleable. Those that don't adjust to the program get sent to the guidance counselor, are made to feel inadaquate, or get ignored.

Where was I? Oh, right, people suck. Most of my life, I've been a spectator, I'll admit. But it's almost as I were meant to be. I have a better understanding of most people's hearts before they even turn to look at me. When I actually participate in life, I'm blindsided and left on my ass. At least, that seems to be the pattern: What?>Ass>Huh?

The more I see, the more I retreat. The more I hear, the more I sing to block it out.

I don't want to spectate. I don't want to participate. I'm just fine being a hermit. :D

Your wings are BROKEN and tattered. You are
an angelic spirit who has fallen from grace for
one reason or another - possibly, you made one
tragic mistake that cost you everything. Or
maybe you were blamed for a crime you didn't
commit. In any case, you are faithless and
joyless. You find no happiness, love, or
acceptance in your love or in yourself. Most
days are a burden and you wonder when the
hurting will end. Sweet, beautiful and
sorrowful, you paint a tragic and touching
picture. You are the one that few understand.
Those that do know you are likely to love you
deeply and wish that they could do something to
ease your pain. You are constantly living in
memories of better times and a better world.
You are hard on yourself and self-critical or
self-loathing. Feeling rejected and unloved,
you are sensitive, caring, deep, and despite
your tainted nature, your soul is
breathtakingly beautiful.

Yeah, whatever.

Smoked too many cigarettes. No, I haven't been to bed yet.

Oh, yeah, happy birthday... it's not Saturday anymore, but who cares? You're not reading this anyway :D

My eyelids feel like they've got 10 lb. weights on them. Had another night out watching movies and playing lil games and talking 'til... well, just a little while ago. Nice and cathartic. I still feel like shit, tho.

I'm trying to pinpoint exactly why I'm still working where I'm working. I think it's just that paycheck in my hand and the material shit I can buy with it. I should just fucking quit. Be a bum for a while... then find some other shitty job while I go to school. Now, if I could just convince myself to do this.

I've been re-accepted to the crap college. Now I need to go get a catalog and figure out what's left of my requirements. Bleh, I can already tell you: science, history, math. I like science but suck at it. History... bleh... depends on the subject. And math can go fuck itself. Man, I love school. I'm starting to doze off... will continue rant some other time.

*Esoteric high school joke.

Phone call from an emergency room: "Your mother wanted to relay the message to you that she is here." Nothing more than that. No, "Please come here." No, "This is what happened..."

Well, I didn't even ask. A half hour later, I get a call directly from her. She asks why I didn't come there. I told her she didn't ask me to. She tells me her blood pressure rocked to 220/90something or some such. Her car is at the UTC. She was short with me. Said she'd have a neighbor drive her home.

Am I a cold bitch? She scares the hell out of me. I simply don't know what to do when things like this happen. I fall into a sort of numb state and distance myself from reality.

I'll never hear the end of it.

Last night, she asked me if I wanted her white cat. And then she talked about Jamie flying to Texas. And then she cried... and I tried to say something consoling, but she dismissed it like she always does... For the whole world is out to get her.

Saa, I might go to bed early tonight.

In other news, why do people so easily hurt people whom they supposedly love? I think they get enjoyment out of it. What a sick fucking world.

I was going to send Travis an early birthday e-mail, but his address no longer exists. Hmm. Well, that's nice.

I can't say that I don't wonder where the hell he's wandered off this time. I think about it every day. But I'm actually starting to care less and less about people individually. :)

My brother went to Texas today. Of course, my mother is in hysterics. Unfortunately, I don't know what to say to her. I'm not devastated. In fact, it probably wouldn't bother me if I never saw him again. But for her I'm sorry. It's not fair that she had to give up custody. It's not fair that they're moving him so far away. She wasn't exactly the greatest mom to walk the earth, but she did give birth to him. She should have rights.

I am actually terrified that my mother is going to lose her mind completely. She's a danger to herself when things are at their worst. But I'm not close with her; I don't really understand her problems... and when she tries to connect with me, my eyes glaze over and I can't think of anything to say. What would happen if she successfully committed suicide? It's a terrible thing to think about, but it's not out of the question.

Mmm... my mother just called. The last few days, she's been in the dark about something with both my sister and me. I told you about her most certainly losing her house, right? And my brother being shipped away to Texas? Well, there's more to this interesting soap opera called my life.

I haven't seen my brother in two years. He's been in one facility or another since he attacked our mother with a screwdriver. Mind you, he's only 13. During this time, he has developed a calcium deficiency (most likely from all the fucked up drugs they've put him on). A week or more ago, his arm was broken. The humerus, to be exact... a bone which doesn't break easily. He was being pinned down or wrestled against something when it snapped.

My mother's stress was rising, as you can imagine. So, the other day, she went to some place (which she wouldn't really describe to me, but I suspect it's some sort of mental/psychiatric thing). Her blood pressure was 171/97. She had bronchitis and didn't even realize it. And she was having a breakdown. They're regulating her medication free of charge. She plans on coming home tomorrow.

And that's all I know thus far. My brother may not be going to Texas, after all. A possible lawsuit is arising from the incident with his arm.

Oh, the drama! It makes me shiver with some indescribable feeling. The same feeling I got when I saw my mother's blood all over the floor two years ago. Heh... like your heart's going to burst out of your throat and smack you in the face.

And, like everything else, I have to think alone about this.