Friday, August 13, 2010

Everything hurts

my mouth, my ankles, my feelings - my wallet. I hate living here. I came home once again and my door was wide open with guests checked into the rooms. I walked in to the house with four people at the parlot table with Lance - um - Stan - whatever I call my landlord here - at the table with them and he's like "Oh I opened your door because it was so hot and sticky up there." FUCK YOU. TURN ON THE CENTRAL AIR FUCK FACE. My door wide open with the fan on - my journals moved and my sense of safety SHATTERED and now I don't want to leave again. Then I came home from work and my netflix movie was in front of the door. My bedroom door. I have to move out. I can't take it - I can't take living here in New York or this ridiculous house. The people at the table were like "Oh - someone lives in that room??" Right - because who would leave there door WIDE FUCKING OPEN WHEN THEY AREN'T THERE??? VIOLATER. I suddenly have absolutely no idea why I am here seriously in this town. This is ridiculous. I hate it - I hate him - I'm old and alone and it isn't getting any better. I'm fucking miserable. I really am. I'm not going to be famous and I'm nothing and now I feel sorry for myself and I want to set his house on fire. Then he acts like it's nothing - no big deal - who cares?? I feel so trapped. I don't know what to do. I really don't. What am I supposed to do? There are no guys left for me - I'm SO unhappy. I hate my job - the people I work with are fucking scumbags. Such slime balls. I'm just over it. Now I have pms I think. I should just move back home. I went from being an unhappy kid to an unhappy adult and now I want to move home? I can't do this anymore - I'm not a grown-up - I don't even have access to A KITCHEN where no one will eat my food. I don't even have the ability to LOCK MY ROOM and have it STAYED locked. He not only unlocked my room but tried to make it seem like it was MY FAULT somehow. What a selfish piece of shit. I haven't even been able to look at him - I can't - I don't want an altercation. I am miserable. I said that right? Fuck. Forget it - I give up. I don't want to be a performer anymore - I can no longer do this and lie to myself that something is going to change. Nothing is changing - I'm very unhappy and I don't feel well emotionally and physically. Why am I even in this program or bothering with therapy. It's not helping - I'm fat - miserable and no men are even attracted to me anymore. At all. How's that huh? Sooo - my art is dead and I certainly can't do anything here. STAN FUCKFACE will just come on in here and look at it - and leave it open for anyone to see. So forget it. I give up. I really don't see what the point is at all. This has never changed - I have never been happy and I'm sick of struggling and being poor. And sorry but I'm not able to figure out what to do. So there you go God - you fugure it out - I GIVE UP - I don't fucking care anymore. If I make it to a tear without drinking it will be a miracle. I just don't care enough not to. I hate everything about my life except my family and the beach. Great - can I make a living off of that?? Christ almighty what a fun read this is.

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