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11/4/05 08:18 pm

My good feelings about who I am stem from being liked by you
My good feelings about who I am stem from receiving approval from you
Your struggle affects my serenity. My mental attention focuses on solving your problems/relieving your pain
My mental attention is focused on you
My mental attention is focused on protecting you
My self-esteem is bolstered by solving your problems
My self-esteem is bolstered by relieving your pain
My own hobbies/interests are put to one side. My time is spent sharing your hobbies/interests
I am not aware of how I feel. I am aware of how you feel.
I am not aware of what I want - I ask what you want. I am not aware - I assume
The dreams I have for my future are linked to you
My fear of rejection determines what I say or do
My fear of your anger determines what I say or do
I use giving as a way of feeling safe in my relationship
My social circle diminishes as I involve myself with you
I put my values aside in order to connect with you
I value your opinion and way of doing things more than my own
The quality of my life is in relation to the quality of yours.

Caring is my disease.

10/6/05 07:54 pm - Today

I am so glad, im not addicted to cigarettes. I love clllean air!
I have to ask.. why? I thought about that today, just why does everything work the way it does. I realized nothing is ever going to work really. Im talking about never ever, I thought about why not influence, people are here to be influenced by others, but blah ber bleee ber. Life is seriously only about one person, you, or me, but that would make it us wouldnt it? Im seriously considering changing my profession, I dont know if im equipt to be around little kids, I dont want to damage their brainies.

I learned that cognitive ability is directly related to motor ability, which is weird because steven hawking is so smart, and whats even weirder is that no one knows who steven hawking is. Hes like christopher reeve only not an actor, and not dead.


I also learned that so many things that your parents do affect how you grow up, Im sure I knew that before but it sucks, because I dont want to be anything like my parents. Sometimes I wish I grew up in one of those talkative Italian familes, there might be loud noises but at least it would be communication.

I want to slap my self for not being super happy about not being in a third world country, and not having enough to eat. I am so glad I still have friends.


Yay for lulus, DDR, balloons, and pictures!

9/15/05 02:31 am

I had spent time writing another, and it still feels like sickness. some people are bad. but my friends are good.
that is the shorter version of "it"

9/2/05 07:11 pm - What is todays date?

Like I said in an earlier journal, I had the weirdest dream last night. But this is usually how it goes for me anways; dreams that I have usually involve something that happened during the day or something that I think about before night time. Right before I went to bed, I strangely enough was thinking about christianity, more specifically jesus. Nothing serious, just like jesus loves me he loves me a bunch because he put skippy in my lunch. So that night, I would just have to assume that I would have a dream about jesus perhaps how he stole my trash can so I cant throw anything away anymore. But no, I dreampt about something else. Im in a room with a whole bunch of other people I dont know watching tv and a nurse comes in and she says you all need to be tested for aids. Im thinking whattt, how did I get aids! And the whole dream I was in this waiting room just sitting waiting for my results to come in. My nurse was like, ya'll might have aids...it will just be a moment before we find out. And I woke up, I was so freaked out, I was thinking, wohoo I dont have aids! And I just wanted to tell the world I dont have aids. Now I will commence what will be a continual celebration of the fact that I dont have aids.
I dont have aids
I dont have aids
I dont have aids
I dont have aids
I dont have aids
I dont have aids
I dont have aids
I dont have aids
I dont have aidsss
I dont have any sports equipment and I donthave aids.

8/12/05 11:13 pm - who stole my sanity, give it back! maybe i can fit my entire journal entry in this tiny little doh!

im going to explode....boom.

8/11/05 09:58 pm - Alright, I realize this is recent too

Just when I finished mylast journal entry I forgot I really hadnt finished and decided to open up a new window, this one fully dedicated to a dream I hada few nights ago.

I saw this sky, with brown greylight in it, it wasnt raining, but the sky looked old, I dont remember what exactly it was that I was doing before hand, but something important, so important that I forgot what it was. I remember seeing this glimpse of about four or five figures inthe sky infront of this dark grey scenery. The figures looked frightening; they were riding broom sticks and youcouldnt see their feet, the only thing I remember were black dust with wire clinging to these brooms. And these figures were covered in bags, you know the kind are heavy cloth ones with red chinese writing on them. The bags looked full as if they the containers were filled with rocks hunched over. These things were moving up and down, as though one would when bobbing in and out of water rhythmically but without music. Up down, up down. I dontunderstand it, this dream has nothing to do with anything, my dreams never do. So all I could see were these things moving up and down in bags, riding brooms in the sky. I cant beleive I dreampt that.

8/11/05 08:40 pm

Have there been days,where you justcant stop eating? Id say yes to all seven but, thats not true, I wanted to eat until I died. Of course that would take several years so its not ever going to happen.
Absolutely THRILLED about college, no mystery there. Thats all I have to say about that.
Am I really greedy for money so much that, I havent had a vacation yet? Or vay kay as the people at work call it. Adult language I hate it. I dont fit in with adults at all, perhaps thats why the majority of my work experiences have been terrible. I cant wait to quit both of my jobs; every time that I have a job, I severely screw it up. I fell asleep at work once, at marcs I lost alot of food stamp money, and the library hmm, I cant really think of one; which brings me to my next point, the devil. I know there was no sign of a segway there at all but in my brain it worked. Last night I watched constantine, and aside from the plot, the only interesting part of it was the devilish caracter the devil. Of course the idea of the devil itself has formed from the word satan, old latin I suppose; but what I find interesting is the fact that the devil was never actually described in the bible. No one knows what "it" looks like. Apparently, in the movie, the "hell bible" does describe satan as a man in a snazzy white suit with very dirty feet. I wonder how good the the dry cleaning services are there, and, if you work at a laundry mat in hell are you punished by doing its laundry. Probably not, most likely it wears one suit all the time, and its suit has special cleaning powers of its own. But white? Why not pink or purple, something like that not orange because orange is pretty. Unfortunately it is white because it is supposed to come in the form of light or something pleasing to the eyes to trick us. No one can trick me though, if I have Angelas mom with me, she will know if its suit is truely evil, she has an eye for dirt, shes been doing laundry for years! And well.... I havent.
A few days ago my aunt and uncle were visiting, and I noticed how much more talkative they were than my parents. I wonder if my parents are even a good match anymore. Eh probably not.
Anyways, Ive decided to become a pack rat, hopefully it will be a good thing.
And I have changed my major once again to furious pickle eater. That is my calling in life. The teaching gig was alright, little kids they are sort of annoying however,pickle eater will be a much better choice. I will be minoring in dill, garlic, and sandwitch stackers.
I also considered changing my name to
and.. last but not least

I dontreally want to change my name, but there are so many weird and different names outthere like pilot inspektor and audio science. I could change my nameto anything I wanted, like oreo sandwitch, or peanutbutter cup, or ....Iwont say that last one. Instead joe blacks name should be changed to peanut butter cup.

Order of deserts I like.
1. Cake
2. Brownies
3. Cookies
4. Ice cream
5. Serbet
6. Fruit, fruit tastes good, but, its not a desert.

And the man I would not like to talk to dead or alive would either be gilbert godfrey or colin ferrel.
Unless gilbert godfrey were his character, "Iago" from the movie Aladdin.
I would then ask him to tell me how do parrots live so long.

Parrots are searching for the fountain of youth too.

7/22/05 10:51 pm - I'm sorry If I came off so nuts

Last night I had this dream, and you and you and you were there. No seriously, I did, it was like that time when everyone was together even people I didnt like. And even people I havent seen in years. I keep thinking I have those dreams because I am obsessed about teeth and I am scared to drive, and I havent said but three words all day. I hope that the saying is true, that you are a different person when you are thirty than when you were twenty. Because I definately dont want to be twenty forever, then again I might not like thirty. I wish my mind would just make up its mind. I dont know why my space bar is doing this but it is. I dont know how to stop it but itsmakingspaces on its own .It seems like I dont have to make a space it just does it automatically. but anyways, if it dosent make correct spaces than that is just what is gonna happen. just like my life, its just going to happen. I dont know what I am going to do. Can I get through this, all my mother does is sit around and really she puts butter on everything she eats. Not a regular amount of butter, but probably enough to only to taste the butter. I said to her today, mom you need tostop eating butter andstart replacing butter with something else. Her cholesterol was like 300and she justdosent care. my mom is going to have a heartattack have some surgerywhen she is sixty and possiblydie at seventy. but even the fact that i dont wanther to eat so altrustic its self centered. Even though sheknows shesgoing to diesoon, shejustignores it onlybecause shes not dead. I think that s why most people dont worry about themselves. sometimesi think its worth itbutthen, othertimes i justdont. everyday thiscrossesmymind. and I end updoingwhat peoplewantandnotbeingableto do anything i want. i justthings back to theway theywere. i guess i cant keep wishing that this would happen because it wont, and nothing will ever be the same. I want to stop everything if i could. its nice thoughthat somepeople want to know me and want to keep knowing me, instead of feeling worse about me every day. I can feel happiness, Ican almost imagine it rightnow, because I know what it feels like tofeel great. Ive smelt it , but its almost completely foreign, and thenif feelthat i have donetoomuch complaining. I heard somewhere that people that cant or dont expressthemselves in anyw way they just die ten years earlier than they should. Iknowthat tonight, I couldnt tell my mom that, I thought she shouldnt be eating all that butter. I cant really expressanything about anyone, because all I can do, is cry. it just comes out as blah blah blah why am i this way, cry cry cry. It goes up and down, I realllywant to speak without going blubber blubber. Andso much of everything, is dependent on people, even though I dont wantthat, it just happens. Isntthere an axe I can use tofixthis collegeproblem, thisidependence problem,this intellegence problem, thiscarefreeproblem,my happiness problem. My PROBLEM THAT IS A PROBLEM. I can tell that NO ONE likes reading about sad people, no one likes being around sad people, and everyone forgets sad people. there are things that i cant say but i want, if i couldstop being so ambigious withall mywords, ambiguity is very unclear, its like your hidingsomething, and i have gotten into a pattern where Ihidealmost everything. How do youcure amurderers rage, idont think you can,just like idont think ican curemy inability to tell thetruth about my feelings, or just be openin general. No i dontwrite about my wonderfuldays in college, my young exciting life because thats what girls do, thats how most girls are. But sometimes I am not like most girls, my feelings are here because no one hears me, and anyone that does,is tired, ofit,disgusted, or it is their job. Why cant I just stop being thisway, Iwish I had an answer. There are so many thingsthat I do think about, butthen, Ihate myself for thinking them, and then think that i should be greatfulfor thelife i have, and then well that works for a maximum of five seconds. And I wondered where does, this need to hide everything come from, it comes fromthe needto please and the need tonot feel embarrased, or hated,its the fear of rejectionthat drives everything about me. Maybe when im with my friends its alittle different. I think its mainly with men, more or less. Its strange, every man I encounter, my new uncle hutch, people I work with, I completely ignore, and avoid; its notthatI enjoy beingmean. Every man I have encountered, I guess I could say has been mean in some way or another, im a big scaredy cat when it comes to my dad. i dont even like to talk to him, maybe onlywhen hes happy,maybe not at all. How do youdeal with someonethat yells at you when you askwhytheyput hotdogs in maccaroni and cheese, or speaks in dramatic tones all the time. Once he told my brother,sister, and me that he would stand before us all to defend us, im not sure what he was thinking at the moment but probably something along the lines of some one is going to attackour house tomorrow, with guns, tazers and pointy objects and that hewouldbethelast onestanding besides us waving his american flag. Of course, this is a nicethought if your a father who loves mel gibson, but just randomly saying it, out of no where, what am i supposed to do with this information, am i supposed admire him, love him; no, the only thing it does, is confuses me. In a combination, mymother, being sensitive about everything, and mydad being a dramaticclingy unsure,insecure person, who has nofamily life, or social life outside work;put those qualites togetherand I guess youhave somethinglike me. The angry sad insecure dad,andthe worrysome overlysensitive mother who remainssheltered, and cannot process thoughtsquickly sowhen asked why I shouldntdo something she saysbecause. I should begreatful fortheparents Ihave, and maybe I am,butI think that its my problem, Im not stupid like I cant do anything about myenviornment,butI still feel foolish for being a product ofit and exhibiting some ofthe behaviors myself. I would say because all the time whenever i didnt wantto admit or explain anything to anyone. Maybe I shouldforget memories, at least my journal entries. I just dont know where I am, i life in anything, Im not even sure how to eat, or sleep, i am waiting for someone to saywake up, Im heretohelp you and love you forever; I wontever get angry I wont everget mad, Im just glad your here, I cant wait to hear from you tomorrow.

7/8/05 10:50 pm - Wow

wow, its been so long since ive written in this thing I wonder if anyone will notice. Maybe for a day I could be a vegetable and then a vegetarian could kill me. Gee there is nothing to write about, is there because no one will actually read this, so basically my typing is pointless. i was reading past journal entries and I can not beleive some of the wacky things that I wrote in there. Something about socks and sex and gasoline what was I on. Definately not a carnival ride. Or wait was I?
I could sit here all night trying to be witty and funny and everything else but I wont, my room is messed up, my homer simpson clock had a heart attack, my wireless dosent work, and I have food everywhere. I wish that I could turn back that clock to 3 and a half years ago...junior year in highschool, eating so much food, not working ever. Im sorry to say that work has consumed my life everrrry day I want to get paid so much more, are you still reading? If you are I applaude you. Is that it is that all I have to write about. No I guess not, I'm still typing, well I finally have become an author, I've published one poem. Its not very good, but some one liked it. Okay one time when I was at the library there was this mexican person talking to one of my friends and I think hes stalking her because I saw him outside after dark waiting for her to get into her car, so I told my boss, and thats the end of that story. I also tryed to get into my grandpas truck but it was too big for me to get in easily. What is it with men and huge trucks, my grandpa is really short so his truck has to be really huge. For example my feet were hanging off the seat, to get onto the step is about two feet in the air and to actually get in the truck its another two feet. And I was thinking, well okay a young man would probably drive this car because its hard to get into, and you know how difficult it is for old people to lift their legs at least 5 inches off the ground, why tell me why is such a tiny man trying to get into such a big car. I just wanted to see him try to get in and film it but I couldnt. I asked him about it, and he stops, and says uhh well, um yeah. Grandpa you didnt answer my question. I guess his answer would go something like this, I am a man and a man like me, knows what he wants. and I say, what does he want grandpa? and he says, compensation. Grandpa dont use such language. As for my other grandma, wow, when I get old, i dont want to get thattt old, when she stands up she makes a right angle with her body so its like shes staring at the floor. I cant even see where her feet end and legs begin, and she called my dad to tell him to drive 4 hours down to toledo just to take her to the hair dresser, so she can look nice for the fattest dalmation in the world, spot. I know this isnt much to talk about but Im going to say it anyways. Its hard living alone, no one to spend time with really, at least no one your own age, my own parents rarely, rarely engage in a conversation with me. Anywayyys, i ate this incredibly flat hard pancake and discovered that it was really this cement disk that someone through in my window, when it had written on it "I am ben franklin" this didnt really happen but wouldnt it have been cool. I remember one time my dad and I used to write stories in health class during the sex unit about snow men and everything else, those were fun times. See I dont know if i even want to be a teacher anymore because their salary is so low, its rediculous because I can make more on a yearly salary now than I could just starting out as a teacher, but I hate watering that plant. I have about 4 bosses. Oh and they havent even tested me for drugs, which is good because I shot it up big last night while watching requiem for a dream, I cant wait untill I get to be a stripper next so I can get more money to buy more drugs so then I wont have to be put in jail like that black guy. Jesus, I should just win an achademy award for being myself. Im still waiting formyself to change because, seriously I wont be this funny when I am an adult, I can laugh at funny things, but I wont be churning out the funny. My funny will go stale and rotten like nasty rotten cheese. And I dont want to be like that. yesterday I flushed the toilet just for the hell of it, and it made this weird noise and not all the water returned to the bowl, and when i tried to turn on my faucet well, nothing came out. I knew it flushing the toilet just because, thats what causes cancer. Seriously, I have to ask the question, am I really boring, no I do get that reaction from some people like, im really a boring person. Maybe if youve known me for like 5 years and have seen me every other day and then sometimes on weekends you would think im boring too. I cant even fill up 45 minutes im just sitting there talking, and then someone says, mmhm. yes okay. I want to be soooooooooooooo high and soo happy. But getting drunk isnt the answer, yeah I know that, my liver would hate me, i actually just then tried to spell hate like "height" but i deleted. See when you first meet someone, they like you and are fasinated by you and then slowly it starts to be, hmm im really bored. Like id be talking to my teachers and theyre like hey cool your in my class and then its like ohhh yeah whatever. And really, as a whole, i do have nothing interesting to say, im only entertaining when im super silly and i cant be all the time, i feel like someone drained it out of me, or no one did. I think im going to go to bed for now, and If your still reading while im in bed good job.

Forks make good friends
A poem by me

And the rain and the moon, sea and salt
leave your heart and blood to dry.
let your troubles of the world and those corpses over there
be your guide when you chose to die.
Your motion sickness irritates me and your loud loud screams
deny.. oh that happiness that I once held close to my face
in my laundry, in my soap in the air, is gone now
because im boring, your gone, your never there.
The glow on my face is turing to flush and the acid turns inside
of my body that collapses, collapses, collapses for
an antacid called love.
The store owner pulled out his finger and told me get out now
But i have a perscription to fill, but you have no money
and now ill have to try.
to try
to try
to kick this addiction to my antacid called love.
Can I be alone, when my heart burns hard and eats away my life.
can i live one day, and walk one way, the lonely path
of work, and noise, and gunshots and toys.
My figure head is gone, the bells will never ring,
and I will always sing. In my head! In my head! Where no one hears a thing.
Can I do this?
I think I can.

3/15/04 12:33 am - janitor

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