Why is it that when you tell people you are in the position of changing yourself for the good, people have to negify it? Yeah, that’s not even a word? Lol. “You’re switching up!” Or “You’re acting funny!” But when i was already being serious and now that I’ve gotten MORE serious, you can’t seem to comprehend?! *heavy sigh* What stupid vortex dimension have I warped myself into?! And these people try to label this shit with illnesses and say that I’m the problem? No, the issue is that people are fucking idiots and lack common fucking sense. Daily. Which leads to the shallow depths of deception (i.e. alcoholism, addiction, depression, and the all more serious suicide). “Mask Off, fucking Mask Off!”
After another one of my weird dreams, I awoke with a bloody nose. The realism of it all. But i must say, I’m realizing that I am doing way better than last year. Maybe it was a reflection of my past misery? Maybe the concurring misery of it all? An ultimate downward spiral…Cocaine. Some thing I miss, at times. Not that i was ever a stone cold killer of it, nor would i let that become a real habit of mines, because it ain’t that great or anything. But i do miss the feeling of being able to further expand my mind with it. Hey, don’t knock it til you try it! *serious Uncle Sam face and finger* It isn’t for everybody. But as my nose was oozing, it just felt so familiar. If I could chug a bottle of vodka at 9:28 am, then I probably would’ve done so. Why do people drive Evalynn to want to come out? I dislike her, because she just doesn’t give a fuck! WOAH! Woosah, Jaydddde… Easier said than done! Because just yesterday I picked up my straight razor, that I usually use to shape up people’s eyebrows, and darted it right against my arm and pressed down very hard. No, I didn’t cut myself! I just made myself flinch, that’s all. But I definitely did consider it. The desperation of wanting to feel actual physical pain, instead of the pain of everything else is PRICELESS! Now, here’s my issue, with this melodramatic dream and the actions I consider driving towards. Why did I dream about something I haven’t touched in an entire year? Why did I wake up as if I did snort a couple of Quaaludes? Maybe I need to stop letting Al Pacino put me to sleep at night and watch something with Lindsay Lohan? Hmmph… Do I subconsciously want to pick back up this habit? Or is this Evalynn trying to fuck with the rest of the bitches in my head, who have been cooperative and maintaining their composure? I mean, what the fuck? Lol.
Doesn’t anyone understand that I’m slowly entering a grave and all I want is for it to end? Put me out of my misery. And yet, I’m still here! No signs of cancer. No brain tumor. Just a strong case of Diabetes and Bulimia. Thank you God. Thank you for prolonging my suffering! And thank you to those in the medical field who think medication is the answer, when it only causes more hell and fuckery down the road. My life is a prime example!
So I hung out with Mike Will Made It, not the actual producer, but that’s what I plugged him into my phone as, when I met him. He’s not even into Hip-Hop, just FYI! But when I talk to him, I know he listens. Correction…He stares and listens! And when he replies with his input, he does it without being aggressive and rude. He’s straight to the point, which is why he somewhat inspired my character Julian. Unfortunately, ‘Consequences’ is complete fiction. And I’m having a strong case of writer’s block. Because I do have the story completed on paper and finished in my head. I just feel that I need to make it more visionary. And then I feel more pressured and more stressed. But then I remember, no one really cares about who I am yet. This is just another dumb blog for me to release the stress with my vivid and imaginative vocabulary. But I want to get it out of the way to gain some exposure as a serious writer. Get published? Who knows?!
Back to the bad case of Diabetes and Bulimia, I have to take my diet seriously. My fast has begun. It’s been a while since, I have deprived myself. Maybe this will help me gain some control over my inner demons. Because let’s face it, food is another addiction! And I’m running low on weed anyways. And I hate who I am when I drink. So I am in need of a three-day cleanse. I’m going to take this weekend and think about my future actions further. I’m going to create interesting plot twists. And I’m not going to take any more bullshit from no one. “So fuck you, Debbie!“
What is the point of having good vision when life isn’t clear as day? Judgment. Isolation. Pure evil and Hell! That’s what I’ve seen.
Obsessing Him, reviewing the actions of the petty woman who birthed me, and overcoming my feelings of how I allowed myself to become a complete piece of shit. Your God created me for some completely ignorant reason. What is the lesson here? What is my purpose? Why me? I have, who I am, as a person completely figured out. I don’t need to talk to these people or that person. What is that really doing for me? So I’m talking. Okay, BIG FRICKIN DEAL! But it doesn’t stop me from feeling how I feel. It doesn’t take away what has happened. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to do what I have always felt to be right!
A disease is what The People label it. It’s not okay to feel like that. It’s not normal. Did you ever consider that it is normal for me? Think about it. I’ve been depressed since my teenage years. My first attempt at suicide was when I was thirteen. I overdosed on over-the-counter medication. Yes, cheap medication that you can buy at your local pharmacy. I was even more awkward then. Someone who kept to self and minded my own business. Sure, I had friends but I never talked about it. I tried to suck it up. I smiled and laughed at jokes. Real shit happened. But I still cried every day. I think that I just didn’t want to cry any more. Little luck did that do me! So one day, I raided the medicine cabinet and four days later I wake up in Yale with a pumped stomach and a heavy chest. Of course, I was just a beginner then. It was easy to fool people when they had no clue of who I really was. Lies, are what you suggest. But the doctors are the ones who concluded that my body just overreacted on itself. Woo hoo, I was in the clear to go for it again!
Now we are at many failed attempts. And I still have no sense of purpose. I don’t get the point or memo. Why am I still here? Why are people so quick to judge? Why can’t people have good intentions? You know, do onto others as you would do onto them. Why am I getting out of the blue phone calls instead of the friendly home visits? A real apology. Why do people get jealous and insecure? Why are guys so thirsty to the point that they have to force control upon women? And when men don’t get their way, they are quick to garnish your name all to save face? Why does everyone feel the need to be in control of every single thing? Look at who you idiots elected as your fucking president! This is the dumbest fucking country in all of the world!
How did this become normal to us? How did we allow ourselves to think that the world we live in is okay? It has it’s up and it’s downs but there are far more downs than there are ups and I am disgraced. If our ancestors saw us now, shaking my damn head. I want to use my powers for good. I want to believe we can make it a better place. As of now, I must start with me. Is that Selfish? There are just some things that I’m not okay with anymore. Therefore, certain things and people will be terminated until further notice. I’m doing what the fuck I want. I’m being myself for me. Because I know that overall I won’t be for you. Not that I really would want to.
Fighting depression, trying not to commit suicide in oncoming traffic, and holding back screams from the pain of cramps and an upcoming menstrual cycle… Life has been tough this past week. With following lame job leads, and attending the stupid monthly visit to the Man. I don’t know much worse my life could get. People thinking that I’m crazy, I decided to have a little movie marathon. Deep Cover, King of New York, Dog Day Afternoon, Scarface, Communion, and Beetlejuice. All powerful movies, with very convincing men in very insignificant situations. Especially in Communion. Why haven’t the aliens come for me yet? Bastards!
The plus side, I did meet someone new. And of course, I think he’s great. He made me laugh, which seems to be a hard thing to do these days. But with God’s awesome planning of life, there would be an issue. He was sent to me, only to leave me! Thanks to the European corruption of the United States, he’s being sent away. I promise to hold him down, but I fear my lifestyle will continue to drain me further into the gutter. Could I really keep him interested while he’s away? He says there’s no one else, but with my experiences with guys; statements that form from the mouth are usually false! And if it is true, can I narrow myself down to him? Situations like this makes my mind want to broaden my horizons and explore more options. But my heart, wants to settle. Hearts are stupid and so are the people that use them! Maybe that’s why people get stabbed in them often?
Because my heart has been stabbed, stomped, and kicked around so many times, I decided to add another story called Let Them Eat Cake. Based on true events, of course. There’s a little clip of one of my favorite chick flicks, Marie Antoinette. The way they lurk at each other, makes me think of a happier time. When things were good way back when. When I was able to smile and not have a single care in the world. Writing has been my way down the road to recovery. I hope someone accepts and appreciates it, like I do. Because I don’t know what else I can do to occupy the conflict between my heart and mind…