Christmas List ‘08

Channeling the more selfish aspect of the Christmas season, receiving, I’ve decided to contrive a list of items I would enjoy owning…at no expense. Mind you, I am also officially a year older on the twenty-ninth of December.

Knitting Supplies. IE: yarn, needles.

Painting Supplies. IE: acrylic paints, paintbrushes, canvas.

Ugly dolls.

Domokun things.

Pandapple things.

A Lil Wayne poser.

Cat toys for Electron, Wookie, and Apple.

Games for my SNES…I don’t have Earthbound, actually. Or Zelda, or any of the Final Fantasy games.

Books!

Cash money.

Why do I bother? The decisions I make puzzle me, and I am stunned at the amount of effort I’ve exerted as of late concerning the social facet of my life. I suppose I was better off without any of what I attempted to acquire in the first place, and I am now realizing I shouldn’t have tried at all. I am out of time, out of patience, out of hope, and full of bitter acceptance. I am reluctantly making the decision I should have made long before now, and am regressing back into past habits and intense reclusion. At least I have myself, and am understandably very angry that I thought otherwise, even if for a moment. I hate my life.

Composed. Not exactly thoughtful, but thoughtfully engaged. Slick as a sheet of ice despite being smooth as a piece of sandpaper. What one facet lacks, another casually replaces in a matter of seconds; I’ve got this. Tonight’s sequence of events has foretold without a single word how the approaching week will transpire once it commences; it’s safe to say I am ready and waiting. I could stay awake for days. Having that feeling again makes me the single most happy person I know.

I feel so incredibly overwhelmed with the stress of knowing what I should do financially, and the reluctant acceptance concerning what I will do regardless of the knowledge. I dove head first into a seemingly infinite, spiraling mass of shit when I decided to begin using Advance America’s services for extra money… although the decision was hardly one which I could avoid making; I am strapped. I was forced to close my checking account due to the debt I have with the bank, and have shamefully as well as quite significantly damaged my credit because of the same reason. I have felt increasingly apathetic towards most if not all of the aspects in my life; a transition from feeling angry, but not one that I welcome kindly. Analyzing a list of what I have to execute in a day, I have frequently found myself worrying above all else where a shirt I’ve been missing went, or of what crevice aside what couch cushion atop my sofa a lighter might have fallen into. On occasion, I’ll catch myself and wonder why I am subconsciously rearranging my list of priorities against my own will, I feel so helplessly irresponsible…as if I’ve began to regress. Despite my blatant lack of care and effort to progress socially, I have done precisely what the degree of energy I exerted would imply: absolutely nothing. I’ve thought about attempting to make as many people I know and/or do not care about passionately hate me to pass time, and prevent future acquaintances and relationships from ever forming, but I am much too lazy to handle the excitement. Aside from patterns of strange trains of thought and a heartbreaking shortage of solitude and free time, I’ve been trying to finish books to improve my self esteem. I wake up and brew a pot of coffee; always more than I can ever finish alone. I chain smoke cigarettes until I have to begin preparing myself for work, because I know I won’t get but two or three cigarette breaks throughout the remainder of my day. I work, I return home and read, tend to my downloads and sleep, usually after eating a gourmet meal, a package of chicken or beef flavored ramen noodles. Every day, almost every night. I have a cavity so intensely painful that I want to brutally remove it from my mouth with a pair of pliers; at this point, I’d even use a crowbar. I have a consequential migraine atop the glorious feeling of newly emerging wisdom teeth. As a result, I am going to attempt resting after I continue my ongoing study concerning the most efficient and monetarily convenient way to die.

Every day, I learn a little more about what life is and how monetarily consumptive it can be. It seems as though each morning I wake up, I feel dramatically different in comparison to how I did the day before; sometimes for the better, but more often for the worse. Today, however, I decided that I love hating my life. The more increasingly bitter I become, the happier I feel as a result. Hating everything around me has seemed to trigger an energetic burst of joy that stays fueled so long as I continue to hate. The more judgmental, rude, and cruel I can be, the better my life becomes. Everybody else around me are just casualties at this point, I’m on a roll. Since the bout of poor luck ended, my confidence rose to an unnaturally high level. This is what it feels like when you’ve earned one hundred lives in Super Mario World, so life consequentially ceases to matter and you can die as many times as you desire without facing any of the consequences. This is what it feels like after accomplishing a very illegal operation without coming even remotely close to being caught. Hitting a Mercedes and driving away feels very similar to this, but is much more frightening. Finding twenty dollars and keeping it. Topping out your car without worrying about it exploding. Mission: point convey. Status: assessed. I have to work tonight at the Rivercity complex, and I still feel golden. Hello mania, goodbye low.

I have downloaded twenty three of the forty five gbs of music I lost when my external hard drive crashed. In a week, my library will be restored and enhanced.

Sometimes I casually think to myself while driving, all it could take is the brisk and simple twirl of my steering wheel. In the second of time I absorb to blink my eyes, I could be as dead as Heath Ledger. I’ve always wanted to kill somebody, but I never imagined myself doing it inadvertently. I know I’d most certainly want to know ahead of time that the person in question would be a quintessential asshole. Continually expecting the worst to occur, I feel that I am beginning to lose my mind. The sleep deprivation is beating me into a mild but noticeable state of delirium, but I can not sleep through the night if I have to be at work at five am. I suppose I am digging my own grave in this department; I am unable to put the shovel down. For Christ’s sake, I walked into a clothing store with a lit cigarette yesterday. I also reversed my car into a Mercedes in that wretched, cursed parking lot only an hour before…thankfully, quick thinking and fast driving managed to pull me out of that rut. Today, I ran out of gas a block away from the convenient store I was driving to. Not solid, definitely sunk my already sinking battle ship. I am no way, shape, or form superstitious…however, I am sure that I’ll meet my doom Friday the thirteenth; I’m almost certain I’ll end up dying. If I live, maybe the horrid luck I have been experiencing will cease. I am in desperate need of new brake-pads, that’s one more god damned thing I’ll have to spend money on by this week’s cessation. This car is going to end up costing me almost half of what I paid for it by our six month anniversary. Grand Prix? More like a Grand Prick. I have to fill out a financial aid application and contrive ideas to attempt keeping myself awake.

So, Virlynda read my palm today. I don’t have a heart line; it’s a sign. The black, shriveled up, murmur ridden beat maker in my chest is incapable of ever succeeding in life. Everybody else has a heart line, at least a small one… everyone except me, that is. According to a hokey palmistry site: “Absent Line: Ruthlessness, Logic rules the heart.” I am a monster.

I have to drive into the depths of downtown Jacksonville tomorrow morning for a six and a half hour seminar and barista certification at Starbucks. I am so in debt with the bank, as well as with the credit card goblins. I have to pay Advance America the money I was loaned when I am paid this week, as well as a newly acquired speeding ticket. I owe two different people in my family money now, which is ironic considering that last year I was the one paying everyone else’s bills. Life isn’t good; I need to be saving money for my apartment, but it disappears faster than I can even see it in an envelope. I was thinking about hanging myself earlier tonight, but the risk of possible brain damage in the event of a rescue or failed attempt is too great for me to give it a go around. It’s five in the morning and I have to wake up in three hours, should I decide to fall asleep soon. Unfortunately, I cannot fall asleep until my work clothes are finished washing to put them into the drier. As of yesterday, I am officially enrolled in the funeral services program at FCCJ. I only have two more classes after this semester before I can begin the technical courses, where the fun begins. I have a wicked migraine…when I return home tomorrow evening, I’m hitting a comatose state on the cushions of the sofa in my room. As of now, I am drinking the wrong kind of tea. Chai? I’m thinking hemlock.

It’s final. I am traveling to the most public area I can, and I am hanging myself in the rabbit costume.

I’m on a roll.

What did I ever do to deserve this monolithic torrent of shit? Piece by piece, every aspect imaginable in my life has dealt me nothing but negativity and fallen apart. My academic standing, financial status, love life, and family are degrading into predicaments that make me feel like eating hand fulls of sand. I have had miserable luck in the friend department, and even work is beginning to blow. My vocation, which I could at a point not long ago almost admit to enjoying has dealt me nothing but six am shifts for the next couple of weeks. Today, my external hard drive ceased functioning. Roughly fifty gbs of music and all of my pictures are gone. If I can not retrieve the data, I am taking the event as a sign that I am not supposed to live anymore. Each and every time I get into my car, I buckle my seat belt assuming I will total the vehicle and die. Today, after playing hours of Killer Instinct on the SNES with my younger brother, I discovered that I am missing at least several of my games. I couldn’t remember any of Spinal’s combos and lost miserably, over and over again. My ego shrank, dramatically. Sigh, no mercy.

I will have the upper hand in all future situations I inadvertently throw myself into. I will analyze all responses. I will dictate my conversations. I will play my cards according to the ones I have placed in my hands, instead of what I can not see on the table. I will base the decisions I make thoughtfully on reason alone. I will no longer put faith in other human beings. I will not hope. I will have fun. I will reach each and every one of my goals. I will do all that is in my power to improve my life. I will become who I want to be in an immediate fashion. I will win. I will finish my cigarette.
I have finished zombie outline number three, as well as book number three in a two week time frame; my only real friends. They speak when opened to, are eternally waiting patiently for my attention, and are almost always interesting. If they were animate, say for instance, people- I would most certainly invite them to a party. My Actionville departure is set in schedule to occur sometime within the next two months. Those words entered my brain like rays of fucking sunshine; the sunshine ya plead for after forty grueling days and forty torturous nights of rain. To accompany my bright note, I wrote a note about something pleasant.

The water is deep, a shade of dark blue tinged green with only a god would know what. Clouded by both the somber color itself, and torrents of sand to prevent any sight as to what could be at the bottom of my feet, I am nervous. Cold and slimy, drops of this seemingly endless sea of water assault and slide rapidly across my warm skin, meeting my uneasy body and leaving briskly within seconds. The temperature of these tiny vandals leave me paralyzed, but the consequential shock they’ve triggered is of no comparison to that which the water itself has initiated. What I am feeling resembles a warning, but I am certain I know how to swim. Immersing myself into this ocean, I am devastatingly sure I should not step forward any longer.
I am blindly trusting what can not feel.
Without regard for consequence, my actions are justified in the conglomeration of icy molecules that now violently caress the skin of my neck. I am swimming with what seems to be every last ounce of strength my limbs can conjure. Realization takes its heavy toll when I notice my body sinking slowly into the depths of the vicious sea I trusted halfheartedly against instinct.What moved so gracefully, touched so wonderfully, appeared so alluringly in the beginning is nothing but an inanimate object, flummoxed to the insidious sabotage its wreaked on my life.My denial has evaporated, and I am abandoned feeling ashamed by the lack of skill I have demonstrated in my fading predicament.
My control lessens with every fraction of every minute dictating the rest of my life. Though falling deeper into what only touched my skin an hour before, I am overcome with the illusion that I am floating downward into a sky of sand. Incapable, incoherent, now incapacitated, I walked where I was not welcome. I swam in water too deep, and have paid a price that literally serves as all I have.