Erased a whole bunch of sick stuff about sick people. Running around trying to get the eye out of my fork.
You know what? It fucking hurts. It hurts to see others suffer, but more importantly it hurts to see others suffer when they don’t even know they are suffering. It hurts to suffer, but like death it is pretty painful for the people who are living.
I am so sick of addiction and how it ruins peoples lives. How it ruined my life and how it continues to ruin lives of people all around us. I don’t say me because I am not special here and if you are reading this I am sure you know someone that is suffering from the disease of addiction. It starts off as it being the source of our fun and then it ends with us being the source of its fun. All of the stuff in the middle is just pain, pain for all involved.
Someone said to me that I would find someone. I didn’t ask this person for that information but she felt the need to offer it up to me. Argh. This was someone that really meant something to me but god through the wall of narcotics I could see the mirror of my own thoughts and actions.
Talk about pouring salt on a wound. Just a last minute fuck you to good old me.
I know it isn’t clear. It isn’t suppose to be. I don’t understand it myself. I am not going to spell it out there isn’t a point and besides I don’t get it either.
So where do I intersect? What is my part in all of this shit? I play along. I am a player. I get as close to the line as I can without touching it like one of those bocce balls and then I hate myself for allowing it to happen.
Is there someway I can change this? I have tried all of the outcomes and they all seem pretty similar a pit in the bottom of my stomach. Sure the pit is filled with different shit, but shit, shit is shit and no one wants a stomach full of shit especially not me.
Women are devious dangerous people and I want none of them in my life but at the same time I want all of them in my life. I love them and hate them it is so bloody cliche. I especially hate whatever the F**K my mother did to me to make me so f’ed up in this area. ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
I know the real deal. It isn’t mom, women or the lot it is me. Everything starts and ends with me. I am not paying lip-service to anything either it is the only truth and the only way to make any headway in this crazy world. More importantly it is the only thing I can do anything about-me.
It figures page 20 of the manual was ripped out. Whadeva.