Text 15 Jul

I came in today late.  They cancelled my train so I caught a local which was annoying.  I figured I’ll already be late may as well stop and get some caffeine.  I stopped in starbucks and when I was there you called.  I snapped at you, between thinking the whole train ride about the things upsetting me lately and it’s general delay, and then knowing that you were calling to simply check where I was and me wanting to say it was pointless as I was downstairs and if you waited another minute you would see that I was there.  I don’t know I just got mad about it and was short.  I wanted to get you off the phone so I could run up and say I’m here.  You were hurt.  I heard it on the phone.  I saw you when I came in.  You look tired.  Worried.  Crushed.  You’re quiet.  Did you read what I wrote?  I don’t know.  I’m tired myself.  I’m trying not to collapse at my desk and slump over defeated.  I don’t know what to do.  I don’t know if I should scream at you in anger for the rage that I’ve felt, or to cry on your shoulder about how I feel like I’m stuck in quicksand and I’m just being dragged deeper and deeper and I don’t know how to get out.  Or should I push down whatever I feel and try to help the pain that you look like you feel.  The pain I caused?  Should I have done anything?  Whenever I talk or express anything it seems I hurt you.  You want me to share, you say you’re not fragile, but you don’t want to hear what I have to say.  It breaks you.  I break you.  I… just don’t know.  I feel anger.  But I look at you and it lessens.  I want to scream but I see the broken look in you and I feel like I’ve hurt you.  that no matter what I should apologize for making you feel this way. 

I don’t hate my girlfriend.  I love her.  I love her more than anything or anyone else in my life.  I’ve attempted to do my best for her.  To sacrifice, to change, to have her love me, and be something good for her.  When I write on this blog it’s usually in anger.  I never created this with the intention of sharing photos or social commentary.  I made this for catharsis.  To scream the things I didn’t think would see the light of day otherwise.  To be the cold unbias of silent agreement to every bad thought, every bit of rage, bitterness, and depression.  I don’t feel this way all the time.  At least I try not to.  Looking at the writing that has happened here it would seem that I despise the person I’m with, but that’s not the case.  There are times when I hate her.  You know why?  Because that’s normal.  For once I have something normal in my life.  You don’t love anyone all the time.  It’s never going to be perfect all the time.  I try not to expect that.  I vent here about the things that maybe I hope will change over time.  To maybe formulate my thoughts before I go and scream things I’ll regret in 20 minutes.  My words can be venomous.  Sometimes I choose them to be just that.  I weigh the amount of pain I can inflict with each syllable and hope I can twist a knife in bitter revenge of how my emotions have felt wronged.  I want to be with her.  I do.  I don’t want to give up.  I don’t want her to give up.  I’m scared she will.  She seems so close all the time.  It’s why I scream here.  What if the whisper of one word will break her.  What if she can’t take it?  I’m stubborn.  I refuse to let her go.  I think she might want to let go at times.  She’s scared.  She’s felt unloved, she’s fought so much I can’t blame her for wanting to, it’s what she knows.  It’s her comfort.  Her silence.  I can’t force her to not give up though.  I can’t make her a hostage.  I can only sit and hope that she wants to fight the way I do.  She’ll have the patience, be able to take the truth, take the hits, change and work. 

Text 15 Jul

I’m sick of the constant hypocrisy.  Stop the lectures, the sense of unearned holier than though and worldly experience and realize that you have no right to ever, EVER give me shit about the things that you do.  Realize I’m a fucking blessing in your life and treat me like it.  Give back just once what I give you.  I may be a piece of shit but I admit it.  I’m a sack of useless garbage and I hope everyday that I find out my annoying life will come to a swift end be it I don’t look both ways before crossing the street, I find out that the cancer that has shrunk my family is growing inside me, or that maybe I’ll finally just put the gun against my chest and pull the trigger and be free.  I know these things.  I accept them and I try not to deny them.  So don’t.  Don’t act like you have any right.  Like you deserve anything.  I don’t know anymore.  I’m still mad.  Mad at the lies.  Mad at your denial and the ease with which you justify away the actions.  It’s never been your fault.  It just happened.  You were drunk.  You couldn’t help it.  The person who has screamed at me.  Screamed about taking responsibility for my actions.  Growing up and dealing with things.  And yet you refuse to ever deal with anything.  You try to relive the “glory” of high school and college, only telling stories of the time there, getting so drunk you can barely stand straight and then making an ass out of yourself.  You want a ring?  You want my commitment?  Show me you deserve it.  I don’t trust you.  Why should I?  What reason do you give me?  Is it unreasonable that I want to feel confident in my decision after I find out about years of lies, see you stuck in the very stagnation you cursed me for, and find that every opinion you have seems to support you not wanting to be with me, or at the very least feeling like you shouldnt have to commit to just me and that it seems impossible that you could be satisfied with one person in your life? 

I don’t believe in god.  It’s a pathetic idea for those who find the harsh reality to unpalatable to deal with without thinking of a magic grandfather in the sky who will pat your head and coo gently into your ear about what a good special and important person you are.  I don’t believe.  But if I did I would hope that maybe tomorrow is the day where I can die.

Text 30 Jun Is it really so hard

I lay next to you and think is it so hard for you to comfort me? To love me and show me? Do I ask for so much, for such an impossible thing? I want to feel loved and defended and comforted but I wonder more and more if you’re even capable of that.
I’m insecure. Neurotic. Stupid and childish. But can’t you still at least act like you care? Show me you love me. It doesn’t take much. It’s pathetically simple I think. Just tell me you love me. Say the words unprompted, give me a kiss just because looking at me made you smile and remember how much you love and need me. I wait, and wait, but it seems like it never comes. I tell you I love you. I stare at you and smile because I can’t help myself. But you don’t look at me that way. You don’t say I love you first. We said good night to each other and I didn’t say it. I hoped that you would need to hear it, want to hear it that you would say it and would I would say it back. But you didn’t. You seem unable to find the words yourself, only able to repeat them after I do like a parrot or prompted computer reply never grasping what it means or feeling what I do, simply replying because that’s what one does according to common practice.

I’m insecure. But you won’t comfort me. You don’t seem to get how. I bring up ridiculous unjustified feelings and you never try to quell them. You don’t tell me that I’m the only one for you, handsome, perfect, or your sexual everything. You become, defensive and angry. Say not to put words in your mouth and I’m ridiculous. You told me if I felt insecure it was something that was my problem and not to project it on you. Why is it so hard to comfort me? On all the occasions when you say how uncomfortable you are with your body do I say that your insecurities shouldn’t affect me and it’s wrong to think that way? Or do I try to comfort you, tell you you’re beautiful and amazing. You don’t believe me but I try.
You give up on me. You refuse or seem incapable of understanding all I want is to just feel loved, not by a grand gesture but something so simple as being told for no reason at all that you love me. Unprompted affections. When I express being insecure, not being told how stupid it is but comforting me. You yell about my anger about you seeming to flirt with a friend. I know or hope that you don’t actually intend that. I just want to be validated told not a speech about how it’s just how you talk or say he’s a friend means nothing a dozen times. I just want one thing to show you love me more. Not excuses or reasons or defenses, just show me you care about me. Why is that so hard? With everything that’s come to light recently don’t you think maybe I could use some reassurance? Not lies or reasons of why things happened but just some simple signs as to why I should,trust you, believe you when you say it would never happen again, things are different? Don’t take supposed moral high grounds and express indignation because I point out the facts, just for once accept responsibility, and even more so, just tell me you love me. Look into my eyes the way I look into yours and tell me you need me. Not after a fight and tears but just because looking at me you can’t help yourself. Is that so much to ask. Is it so hard for you to let me know that?

Text 12 Jun

I’m rather tired.  I took my sleep pill and its working hallelujah.  I’m going to bed.  I just felt the urge to put something on here to show I’m still alive.  Whether that remains a wise decision remains to be seen

Photo 12 Jun like a box of donuts after police rounds

like a box of donuts after police rounds

Photo 12 Jun 35 notes
Text 12 Jun

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

 Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Fruit of a poisonous tree

Video 7 Apr 582 notes

Isaak I think is one of my favorite characters to appear on Dexter.  He was refined and menacing, and first I hated him but then this entire conversation and his real motivations are revealed and it was just awesome and touching.  As a person not really one for that sort of thing I thought it was great and made me really sad for Isaak and Dexter because I wish they could have been friends and continued together.   Along with Brian.  Basically an awesome murdering trio. 

(Source: arcticfoxxxx)

Photo 7 Apr 104 notes Isaak Sirko, Dexter, season 7.

Isaak Sirko, Dexter, season 7.

(Source: recitethis.com)

Video 7 Apr 4,111 notes

Mmmmmm

(Source: benjens)


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