I'm Pretty Sure that I'm a Monster

There's way too many of me. All of us are always fighting for control, but when we all agree on something is when it gets really scary.

I feel as though I should be going around apologizing to everyone, but I'm not sure the current me is the one that ever caused any problems, because I can't recall the motivation for any of the things that I currently regret.

It really is as though someone else takes over and stirs shit up just to cause me grief.

Unfortunately she looks just like me and answers to my name.

Or maybe she's the real me and I'm the one that causes her aggravation. It's really hard to tell at this point.

Biggest regret? I couldn't save any of them. But they never really listened to me in the first place. Never respected me. Loyalty and honesty don't matter if you're a brunette with no money and no tact.

Never understood why bleach, lipstick and prefaded jeans would get people to listen to you. (Liar) Just wanted to live in a world where it wasn't true. Still helped them with their math homework, though. I was a smartass about it, because it came to me so easily.

Lost it though. Stopped caring. It would have still come to me easily, if I had just let it, but the barriers went up and then nothing new came in. Blank. I knew enough. Seen enough. No more no more no more. Stop the ride, please. I want to get off.

It's easy again, for now. I'm craving Trig pretty badly right now. I want to know as much as I can, even though half of it terrifies the shit out of me. Could only be a hobby though, because turning something I love into Work breaks something inside me.

No one knows me. I don't even know me. Some internet stalker probably knows me. I kind've hate being watched. (Liar) I love being watched. I like it better when I get caught and then I talk my way out, or, if I'm in the mood, I become evil, admit to everything and then make up crazy shit I didn't do, just to see their faces. Incredulous looks. Flabbergasted looks. Terrified looks. People shouldn't let me get under their skin, it will give them wrinkles.

I'll break things even more. Burn things. Bake things. It will be delicious.

I'm sorry. So sorry.

I Made Me a New Blog

Me new blog is Happy Orange Gnome. You go there now!

My Toe Hurts

I ate a bunch of Gummy Bears, became hyperactive and bashed my toe on my bunk futon/bed.

I am the hurting.

Bad Bad Bad Design

I haven't posted for awhile, because the design of this blog is very bad and difficult to read.

But I'm too lazy to redesign it, so, in the meantime, I'm going to continue to post things anyway.

There is No God #1

I Need to Stop Listening to Soft Rock

Seriously, I'm getting all mellow and shit.

Only in the Shower and the Examination Room

I can't identify with people that hate being naked.

I waltz around my apartment in my birthday suit with impunity, when there's no one around to bug me, but there's many people that can't stand to be naked in the privacy of their own bathroom. It's five minutes naked in the shower and then towelled off and back in clothes lightning fast for them. They hardly ever take long baths, unless there is a foot of bubbles hiding their nudity.

Also, what's with people that wear pyjamas on frying hot summer nights? It's dark; they can't see themselves. Why would they rather spend a night sweaty and sleepless, than doff their drawers?

Is there some sort of shame that these people feel about their bodies? Does being exposed make them feel uncomfortable and/or scared!? Have they been reading their bible a little too much?

My philosophy is this: I am always naked. My clothes are not a part of me, they are merely the house in which I reside. The house in which I waltz around in my birthday suit with impunity.

So, everyone should take their clothes off.

Especially you!

P.S. Don't get me started on people that can never be barefoot.

The Chewbacca Defense

Here, look at the monkey. Look at the silly monkey!