Screaming @ MindSay 
crying
Depressed -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
WTF?!
Compared to how epic Monday was, today was just a pile of shite.
I don't know what the difference between today and Monday was, but...
Perhaps I'd had the epic mood carry over from Saturday and it's just been decreasing as the days went by...
Or maybe Monday was such a blur of Cherry Coke and nachos and Tuesday was a whirl of intimacy and randomness, I hadn't noticed how shit I was actually feeling.
Shelly rang me, woke me up.
I didn't really want to talk to her - I'd woke up feeling shit and I wanted to sleep more.
So I was sort of relieved when the phone cut off.
She kept ringing me back though - but I was ignoring it.
I just felt like crying and hurting myself, so I really wanted to be left alone. I'd have turned my phone off, but I needed to leave it on for my alarm and to get the texts from Adam telling me when he'd be here.
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When I eventually woke up, I straightened my room, went for a shower and got myself ready.
Then I played a few gigs of Guitar Hero: World Tour before switching to online face-off matches.
When Adam arrived, I was playing face-offs against some prick who played on Medium called Nuclear Bombs.
They beat me at first - but I fucking hate gloaters who play on stupidly easy levels and buzz when they beat someone who is clearly so much better than they are.
This soon stopped - we played about 12 songs together - and I won 9 of them. So there. :P
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We were so fucking bored today.
Adam suggested we play Brawl, but I didn't want to - on the account that I don't have much else left to do on it. I don't like doing something if it doesn't feel like I'm making any progress.
So we played a few songs on WT, before I changed my mind and decided to play Brawl.
We played for around an hour, playing 2 VS 2 team matches.
We started out against level 6s, but we slowly moved up to level 8s - finding the lower numbers simply too easy for us. As always, I was Peach, Adam was Shiek.
We're a pretty epic duo.
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I'm not sure what actually caused me to snap - but I was bored, as we both were - I also felt very shit.
Brawl pissed me off, due to one of the ridiculous challenges, so I threw the remote and lost one of the batteries - so I couldn't use it.
So, the combination of depression, boredom and anger made me snap, I'm guessing.
At one point, I actually suggested to Adam that he just go home.
I was laid on my bed, trying to stop myself from either screaming or crying - so as a result, Adam and I didn't speak for about 45 minutes.
He was on my computer - occasionally turning around and trying to make me smile, but it never worked. :/
Mam came up at one point - asked why I was ignoring Adam.
I said I wasn't - and Adam backed me up, telling her I wasn't, which was sweet of him - although it was so obvious that I was.
Not purposely of course - he hadn't done anything to upset me, so I shouldn't have done - but I couldn't really help it, I felt that shit, all I wanted to do was hurt myself, but I had to fight that.
I apologised to him later though. I hope he understood that much.
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Ian came round later on the night - I'd lightened up ever-so-slightly by then.
I was talking to Adam again, at least. Perhaps even cracking the odd smile.
Ian, Adam and I held a short discussion about games and The Backloggery.
I told him I'd beaten Ruby and Emerald WEAPON on FF7 - gloated a little bit because he hasn't beaten Ruby. :D
I went downstairs and said to mam I wanted a parmo.
This was the best move ever - Ian and dad backed me up and they ended up ordering a meal deal.
Pizza, parmo, chips, salad, donner kebab, garlic bread and Coke. :D
So we shared it out between us - Adam didn't eat much, but he ate most of the salad and I gave him a bit of parmo.
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The two of us finished off the night with some Resident Evil: Code Veronica X.
According to Ian, Adam and the guide - I'm very close to the end.
I got pretty far in - but due to my refusal to save when it's vital, I got killed by the bastard boss, and now I've lost a lot of the progress I made...
Grrrraaahgggh!!!
Either way, I forgot to pick up a vital weapon I would have needed to kill it, so in effect, it's a good thing...
At least I know what I have to do next time. There shall be less blundering about.
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I've added an old friend on Facebook. We're currently talking on MSN.
A huge year gap really does give you plenty to talk about.
It was a good start though - we both like the same type of music, we're both gay and we both hate chavs - there's a few hours worth already. :P
Will help me take
The pain away, right?
My life's a mess
And I feel like
No one cares.
That's why I'm doing this.
I feel so hopeless.
No one really sees me,
Or pleases me...
How can life
Be so hard?
I'm trying hard
To figure it all out.
So, I'm burned
Standing on this bridge alone
Wondering if I can sail
Right on home
There's just one problem:
I don't know where home is.
I feel like
Dorothy in the
Wizard of Oz.
I wish I had some
Ruby slippers
To hit twice
And whisper:
There's no place like home..
No one really sees me,
Or pleases me...
How can life
Be so hard?
I'm trying hard
To figure it all out.
So, I'm burned
Standing on this bridge alone
Wondering if I can sail
Right on home
There's just one problem:
I don't know where home is.
I may be calm
But my insides are screaming
Please, Lord, Please!
Take me home!
Take me up with you!
Will anybody hear me?
How can life
Be so hard?
I'm trying hard
To figure it all out.
So, I'm burned
Standing on this bridge alone
Wondering if I can sail
Right on home
There's just one problem:
I don't know where home is.
[repeat chorus]
I'm gonna stop
Cutting myself
And figure out
My home.
This is dedicated to a friend of mine. She knows who she is.
+Another Day in the life of Rebekah+316+
They are all crazy. OK so I left off with SNAP,CRACKLE,PoP. Well Mr. Howard came home 2am blaring music, slamming doors and screaming at the top of his lungs. How sad, but I was growing use to this and decided to simply turn the tv up and let him be. Well you know that saying let laying dogs lay or do unto others as you would have them do unto you, Mr. Howard missed that class. am and he decides to start pointing a flashlight towards my bedroom and screaming the f-word at he top of his lungs....can you say 911. I had no choice in calling now that Smokey is trying to break through the window and the rest of the house is awake. Officers arrive and he says Oh was it too loud, she could have asked me to turn it down. The officers go off on him and tell him he must be missing screws. He then makes the excuse that he has a friend in the room...Let me hurry this up and get to the crazy part. So earlier in the day the other roommate gave me screws and nails in driveway right...not all of them. Mr Howard is now screaming that he had the flashlight because he had a flat...I prayed God please please please don’t allow me to laugh. The other roommate swept the nails over into Mr. Howards part of the driveway and you really did get a snap crackle pop.
Once again they left without arresting Mr. Howard but I followed them to the station to file harassment charges. I go back to the station this tuesday to file civil complain for non-payment of rent,emotional distress and destruction of property. I wont stoop to his level but my mother did not raise a fool so he will be served while he is here and if the debt is not settled it gos against his drivers license.
This is an example of JUST SAY NO
In other news, we got a new intern at work yesterday and for me, I am entranced by this girl already. I think I might ask her to marry me before this week is over. OK, not really but the investigative work has begun. As soon as I am privy to her status, I will begin the process of trying to weasel my way into her life which, for me, means that I will waste an inordinate amount of time trying to find excuses to talk to her without seeming awkward but will cause me to look more awkward than I hope and ultimately, she will leave without so much as my ever having a real conversation with her. And another summer will have been wasted!!!
Finally, I watched a pretty interesting documentary last night called Stoked: THe Rise And Fall Of Gator. Obviously, it followed his career in skating from his bursting onto the scene in the early 80's to his murder conviction and sentencing in 1992. A lot of the stuff was pretty common knowledge but there was still a good amount of information about him that I was unaware of like the fact that he made a disgusting amount of money and that he couldn't street skate for anything and local kids ripped on him incessantly towards the end of his career, causing him to snap. There were a ton of interviews with old school skaters like Kevin Staab, Jason Jessee and Lance Mountain who revealed that quite a few of them actually hated him and thought he was a phony. Pretty good stuff.
Paint has overtaken me. My mind is driven by color. I stop to take a break but end up circling the collage or the paint or the stick or the... The one painting staring at me that I just cannot for fucks sake figure out. She tells me nothing. She sits in limbo, form complete and something to come cloak the stale foam form I set down as a placeholder for the thing that needs to creep out of my mind. It is dark in there, I cannot tell where it is coming from or what She looks like. It is frustrating.
A giant triangular piece of wood, with three sections on the back and side boards - an alter covered in words, collage, paint... an altar to what? I haven't seen the end yet, I don't know either. All I know is that when I am one with that work I am transported deep within the blackest places inside my self, and I touch the softest, most gentle and hopeful. It is a journey below the shields. I can let myself be tender there, be true and raw, because the words and colors in my hand let me handle seeing my self as I truly might be. I cannot face my self without distraction, some form of physical meditation to give voice to the words within. Nothing I write, paint, glue, speak, or do in any form, is for anyone other than my self.
Encoded messages from my subconcious mind, things that never translate well out side of oneself. It is a painful mistake to believe what speaks to you will speak to others. You cannot know, you cannot let their interpretations of your voice give you doubt as to what YOUR truths, YOUR realities, are.
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