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User Journal

Journal Journal: shrugs. 2

Well, I've been working on making my life more... intresting I guess. I decided to remove any form of entertainment out of my life. All my books are going, all my games are going, my tv, my movies, everything. I'm leaving myself a journal and a few pens for the next few months or so. I'm gonna sit here and figure out some things about myself. I need to figure out what the hell is so wrong with myself and how to fix it. Damn it. I'm tired of being so broken, and I have no idea what to fucking do about it.

What else did I do? Hrm.

I shaved my head and beard and all that. I shaved it all off, totally bald. I'm tring to remove everything that I've hidden behind, face myself in the mirror. Stare into the mirror, into those dead eyes that are reflected back at me.

How the hell did I end up like this? Why is my soul so damnaged? why did I allow myself to sink so far? Is there any chance at redemption anymore?

Everyone always says that it's never too late, but I disagree, there has to be a line when a soul finally gets totally lost and is just beyond help. Am I forcing myself to that point and beyond? My gaze only seems to hold hate and contempt anymore...

Bah. One thing that's really been bugging me reciently, is the fact that it's not that Death's so appealing, but that life is so unappealing. What's the point to living if it's so like this? Death can't be worst...

So yeah. I'm gonna sit here in my living room until I figure out what's wrong. I have plenty of supplys, and all that, but I really need to figure this out. Ahh well.

And alas, life marches on.


Journal Journal: Run...

I remember running... running and running and running...
There's trees all around me, but I don't see them, I see the path I'm making
though the underbrush...
My foot steps are heavy, my legs are scratched to hell by the thorny vines...
Running... Running forever... Or so it seems...

What am I running from? Does it matter anymore? The fact that I have to run is
the only reason I need for running.... isn't it?

Dodge this branch... watch out for that rock...

I try to recall why...
All I can remember is... branch ahead...

what's this ahead? is that a stream?
okay... get ready... jump...

I fall...


Journal Journal: [Song] Untitled.

I want to know the real you,
To watch the sunlight bathe your face,
See your true soul, the one I see in your eyes,
You and me, together, we can leave this place...

Why do we build walls,
Around our swollen hearts,
I hate you because you changed,
We're forever torn apart...

You left and went away,
Still you're right here next to me.
No measuring the distance in your gaze,
Still you're right here next to me...

Why do we hide,
Our souls in the dark,
I hate you because you changed,
We are forever torn apart,

User Journal

Journal Journal: The Rollercoaster of life.... 4

It's been awhile sense I wrote...

I'm not sure why.

What's happened in the past bit...

lost my job...
stoped drinking for the most part...
stoped drugs for the most part...
girl took me for all I had emotionally, and yet, I'm still giving to her...
I'm drained...
My car's being repossessed next month...
My phone has been disconnected...
My inet is going to be disconnected soon...
I'm going to be evicted...
I've applyed at over 70 places looking for a job, even in fast food joints, and nothing.
I've been pawning off my stuff one item at a time...
I'm going to end up in the street soon...
and all I can think about is damn it, I should just die rather then continue down this downward spiral to my own personal hell. Why wait damn it?

I feel so selfish posting this...
I want to live...
I want to be whole...
I just can't be...
I'm not strong enough...
I'm not strong enough to survive anymore.

And why should I be? Why can't I just give up? Who said that I have to live.

Isn't it unfair that everyone feels the suicide is wrong? Maybe it's right for me, maybe it's the moral and good thing for me to do.

Subgeek said this once, "what you desire and simultaneously deny yourself is human contact. or at least meaningful human contact. you feel hurt by people, so you try to avoid that hurt by closing yourself off. but that isolation becomes more painful than rejection."

I opened myself up, I gave her my all, and yet, I'm only her friend when she wants me to be, if I'm ever depressed, oh damn, I'm just no fun...

Well damn it, I can't be happy forever no matter what...

I can pledge my life to you, I can be there for you no matter what, but there are times with I NEED YOU TO BE THERE FOR ME! WHY IS THAT SO DAMN WRONG?



ok, I'm just venting right now...
I'm so damn angry, and so damn depressed.

I see her face, her smile when I could make her laugh and smile, when she enjoyed me...

and then I remember how much it hurt to have her turn her back on me when I needed her the most...

but her smile, it haunts my dreams...

her voice...

damn it, she completes me...

and I'm meaningless to her...

fuck me.

What is a human to do?

What am *I* to do?

User Journal

Journal Journal: Loneliness... 4

This is a odd one, I'm wondering about you guys for once. I'm wondering about loneliness. Here's my questions:
1. Are you lonely?
1a. Why? Why not?
2. Do you have friends near where you live?
2a. If not, do you wish you did?
2b. If so, would you move away from them for a better job? What would it take for you to move away from them?
3. How do you stop the loneliness?
4. Do you get depressed when your lonely?

any other thoughts feel free to share.

User Journal

Journal Journal: I wonder... 9

I wonder at times if I'm the only one that thinks about death. I even have a prefect way to die. I sometimes daydream bout it.

You see, I have a will written out. I update it every time that I feel down, and after I'm done with that, I usually zone out and think about what to do next. I always see myself taking a long long hot shower, enjoying every second. I then put on my best clothes. I don't have any really nice clothes, so it's a pair of black dress pants and a button down short sleeved shirt. I put on some soft music, something relaxing. I then put down a pile of towels on my bed and I lay down and cover up in my nice warm and soft green blanket. I then take a nice sharp razor blade out of the box and cut my wrists in a cross. The normal accross the wrist and then one down the center of the wrist to about half way up the forearm. I would put the razor down and just relax and wait for death.

Damn it, I'm not scared of death. Most people are, but I am not. Maybe that's because I just don't care about my life.

Anyway, back to my story.

I always think that I'll just stop breathing. I'll just stop, no wimper of pain, a look of happyness on my face. Just the transaction from live to dead would go as well as it could.

I figure it would be a few days to a few months before someone would bother to look for me. I don't think I'd be looking too good, but I wouldn't care. I want to be creamated and thrown away. I don't want a service because none of the people I'd actually want to show, would.

You see, that's the one thing I wish, more then anything else, that someone who really knows me, someone that I cared about, that someone out there would cry or at least miss me. The sad thing is the people who would cry for me wouldn't cry for *me* but cause they see their own morality or failings. I often wonder then, cause noone crys for me, am I even worth of tears? What have I done for anyone that makes me worthy of any care? I certainly never helped anyone out in need. I make new friends who abandon me. I've done nothing to be proud of, I've done nothing to help out anyone. I don't deserve human contact, which is why I keep failing at it I think. I figure after I'm found, the next two weeks will be full of 'family and friends' fighting over my stuff, cause whenever a family member dies, my family will just fight for more money out of the death, they don't care bout the person in the least. They take the life of a person and throw it all away for a few extra dollars. Fuck them.

And so after a few months, after everything I've owned has been split up and sold, and the only thing I leave behind is this journal and for some reason, I think that you guys would remember me longer then anyone I know in real life, when my memory is gone, and I'm gone. What then? I don't know, but I'd be doing something new at least. Something that hopefully isn't so... painful.

You see, I think that's my problem, I won't give up. Everything I do, I continue on and get hurt and hurt again, but I keep trucking on. I do get ever so tired of continueing on. When does it end? When should I call it quits? There comes a time when people just get tired and quit their jobs, why can't I quit my life? What is the difference?

I know, I know, I bet you guys think I should go find something to give my life meaning, but I ask you, what? To be very honest, I don't give a damn about politics. Volenterring in homeless shelters and all that havn't done anything for me. helping out the 'less fortunat' doesn't do anything to me, they seem to be a lot happier then myself, a lot more whole. How am I helping them? There doesn't seem to be anything that gives me any meaning and without meaning, how can I go on? I'm 22 fuckin years old and nothing. Why should I take the chance that in another 22 more years, everything will change? Infact, I think of myself as a drain on the world. the longer I live, the more money I waste, the more resourse I waste, the more I am waste.

I don't know why I wrote all of this. Maybe it's cause I want to know if you have any ideas, any thing that I missed? Am I wrong about anything?


User Journal

Journal Journal: 10 years later... 12

10 years after Cobain shot himself, and yet, here we are, talking about how well he was the voice of our angst, a feeling the entire country shared. Bullshit. MTV wouldn't know the truth behind the music if cobain rose from the grave and spray painted their high rise office building with it. Cobain didn't write his music for anyone else, he wrote it for himself and we helped kill him by taking our confused feelings and our feelings of being out of place and creating angst where there is none. Cobain said he was tired of performing to people who thought they understood when they only existed to be cattle. Everyone who bought a record, everyone who went to a concert, everyone who bought band swag, we helped kill him. MTV was the death toll for Cobain. The packaging of his inner feelings and thoughts into packages fit for the masses to consume and to make meaningless by their own 'angst'. Cobain was a brave soul, pouring out his inner self for us to share in, and I fell ashamed that his inner being was made into such meaningless consumer dribble. The special reports on MTV and the news ancors who speak about how nirvana spoke to them make me sick. They continue packaging Cobains soul up and slice it all to shreads to sell a few more advertisments for shit.

Face it, cobain hated us, he hated us with all his heart and soul, or what was left of it. That is why he felt so empty with all his 'fame' and money. Where is the big assinine mystory in this? Why does MTV think they helped Cobain by doing this to him?

Now why do I think Cobain signed the contracts, made the records? I thikn it was partly for the other members of the band and partly because he had a vision and thought he could change the world, but the world changed him.

So in short, FUCK YOU MTV, let the man rest in peace.


Journal Journal: Colors 1

When I think of you,
All I see is blue,
It used to be,
A big green sea.

Green is the color of change,
Green is the color of renew,
The green sea used to be,
Something that washed over me.

But now, but now all I see,
Is a blue sea of sadness,
From the day you walked away from me,
without saying a word.

Who else can I be,
Except me?
What else can I do,
Except love you?
But I guess that's not enough,
It's never enough.

Tell me what you see,
When you think of me,
Tell me your thoughts,
Tell me your dreams,
Tell me what you need to see,
To start beleiving in me.
But I guess that's not enough,
It's never enough.

I never saw red,
I never saw black,
I always made you smile,
I always made you laugh.
But I guess that's not enough,
It's never enough.

Beleive, please beleive in me,
Let me hold you tight till you see,
I'm not blind to my inner mind,
I can find what I need to find,
But I guess I'm not enough,
I'm just never enough...


Journal Journal: Conflicting Truths 1

It all started with a smile,
We talked, tring to make it worthwile,
Subjects changed, views exchanged,
When suddenly, it rained.

Words flew out,
Oblivious to me,
What they were doing to you,
I never ment it to be let out,
And here I was, telling my truths.

The truths we hold so dear,
When they conflict with our dreams,
What are to we do my dear?
But exchange our passions for our fantasys?

Trust me, my friend,
I never ment to hurt you.
Beleive in me, my friend,
I beleive in you,
Sing with me, my friend,
I never ment to upset you,
Hug me, my friend,
And try to let it go.

I am sorry...


Journal Journal: Silence 7


The silence drowns out the noise,
implicative in it's meanings,
keeping your own heart from beating,
just let the stillness out.

Let go, let go, let go,
Of the one you care about.
Let it flow, let it flow, let it flow,
The tears of your innerpain.
Move, just move, just move,
To try to end the stillness.
Scream, just scream, just scream,
To try to end the silence.

People all around me,
Yet I stare without seeing another soul.
When the robots ask what is wrong,
My voice betrays me,
When the people won't leave me alone,
My silence destroys me.

And yet, and yet,
I don't leave,
And yet, and yet,
I still beleive,
And yet, and yet,
I keep on looking,
And yet, and yet,
I just want to run.


Journal Journal: Friends 7

Damn it, what's going on?
A stranger is sitting across from me,
in the body of someone I considered a friend.

Who is this person? Who am I?
Why the hell do I cry?

I lost a friend, a friend I never had,
Today, I lost something that didn't exist.
Can you morn for a imagined feeling?
Can you cry for a stranger?

I always considered you as someone,
Someone I knew and trusted,
Now I know better,
I know that you never wanted me to.

Who is this person? Who am I?
Why the hell do I cry?

I lost a friend, a friend I never had,
Today, I lost something that didn't exist.
Can you morn for a imagined feeling?
Can you cry for a stranger?

I was always there for you,
You never wanted me to.
I was around and could be found,
You never wanted me to.
I tried to watch out for you,
You never wanted me to.
I tried to be a friend,
You never wanted me to.

Today I lost a friend,
a friend I never had.


Journal Journal: Run

When my fears surround me,
When my worries immobilize me,
When my soul gets that feeling,
the feeling to run, run away, far away.

My head spins, my heart reels,
Instinct drives me, my brain betrays me,
I grab at the ends of strings,
Tring to keep control, control of my soul.

Run, run away,
Don't stop till you can survive the day,
Run, don't look back,
Keep tring to lose track.
Stay, Stay away,
No use in returning.
Believe, believe in a day,
When you won't feel the need to run, run away.


Journal Journal: Why? 1

Why is it when ever I dare to hope for more,
Something comes along and knocks me to the floor,
When the world looks so bright and my steps are light,
A storm moves across the horizon, darkness for the future.

So tell me again, why I dare to try?
So tell me again, why I hurt myself?
So tell me again, why I make myself cry,
night after night for a ray of sunshine?

I stand infront of you, baring my soul,
and all you can do is wonder why I lost control.
Silently I watch your inner struggle,
Wishing I could help, but that is denied to me.

So tell me again, why I try to help?
So tell me again, why I open up to you?
So tell me again, why I allow you in?
So tell me again, why I'm here again?

I wonder if I should walk away,
Solve your problems in a moment of selfishness.
I wonder if I should stay,
Waiting for you to share your struggle.
I wonder if I should hug you,
Maybe give you a sense of the serene.
I wonder if I should sit in a corner,
Maybe give you a feeling of peace.

So tell me again, why?
Why? No one knows, but you,
And sometimes I wonder,
If even you do my friend.


Journal Journal: Anima Chimera 1

Anima Chimera

Well I have told you before,
Your smile keeps me from the door,
You complete me, and keep me sane,
You wipe away my pain.

But here I am, sitting here waiting for you,
A picture of your smiling face staring back at me,
and I look at the clock and wonder when,
And I wait and become lost in a day dream.

You are perfect, why can't you see that?
At least to me, but why is that not enough?
Your personality keeps me from the depths of disparity,
your eyes show me what it means to have a soul.

But here I am, sitting here waiting for you,
A picture of your smiling face staring back at me,
and I look at the clock and wonder when,
And I wait and become lost in a day dream.

I dream of you, you who means so much to me,
and I sing, I sing of you, of your soul,
and I smile, a heartfelt smile from my being,
and I laugh at myself, at the world I made.

But here I am, sitting here waiting for you,
A picture of your smiling face staring back at me,
and I look at the clock and wonder when,
And I wait and become lost in a day dream.

And then your here.


Journal Journal: Miasmic Dreams

Miasmic Dreams

Baby, I just don't understand,
Why you make me feel like a better man,
Is it just cause your so sweet,
Or is it cause of what you've gave to me?

Hopes and fears surround me,
Swirling around, floating up and down,
Maybe I'll show you what you need to see,
and maybe one day, my fears will go away.

Hope is a dangerious ally,
But what else is there when you want to die?
Sleeping in the shadows, dreaming of tring to see,
but my eyes won't show me anything but thee.

Damn it, I want to get lost,
In the nothingness of the bottle,
Or in the destitute of the substance,
but why, why can't I just fly?

But there you are, encourging me to be,
better not for you, but for me,
And I wish you could see,
What that means to me.

I hope you don't mind,
This song of mine,
But it just came to me,
and maybe now you shall see.

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"The eleventh commandment was `Thou Shalt Compute' or `Thou Shalt Not Compute' -- I forget which." -- Epigrams in Programming, ACM SIGPLAN Sept. 1982