I haven't felt so lonely in such a long time. It's not that there aren't people around, there are. I don't know why I feel so miserable. All the lies that I tell myself are coming apart and I don't want to believe in whatever is left. It's not something that I feel like is worth living for. I can't find the right things to tell myself to make tomorrow worth it. Every moment feels right for crying, there isn't anything else I can do that ellicits any emotion inside of me.

it feels like i caught a cold and it's one year old

Some lyrics

I've been listening to this in my CD player for a while.

"You Know How I Do", Taking Back Sunday

So sick, so sick of being tired.
And oh so tired of being sick.
We're both such magnifacent liars.
So crush me baby, I'm all ears.
So obviously desperate, so desperatly obvious.
I'll give in one more time and feed you stupid lines all about "its basic..."

We won't stand for hazy eyes anymore.
We won't stand for hazy eyes anymore.
We won't stand for hazy eyes anymore.
We won't stand for hazy eyes anymore.

So sick, so sick of being tired.
And oh so tired of being sick.
Willing and ready to prove the worst of everything you said about.
So obviously desperate, so desperatly obvious.
So good at setting bad examples.
Listen, trick, I've had all I can handle.

We won't stand for hazy eyes anymore.
We won't stand for hazy eyes anymore.
We won't stand for hazy eyes anymore.
We won't stand for hazy eyes anymore.

Think of all the fun you had.
The finest line divides a night well spent from a waste of time.
Think of all the days you spent alone with just your T.V. set and......"I can barely smile"

Think of all the fun you had.
The finest line divides a night well spent from a waste of time.
Think of all the days you spent alone with just your T.V. set and......"I can barely smile"

Let's go...
He's smoked out in the back of the van, says he's held up with holding on and on and on.
He's smoked out in the back of the van, says he's held up with holding on and on and on.

I didn't sleep at all last night and haven't taken any naps. I'm just running on my provigil and some L-phenalymine. Just one cup of coffee makes me too jittery that it's uncomfortable so I'm giving up on that, at least to keep me awake. It doesn't work that well.
Last night I just cried and felt bad for several hours and tried to sleep, but just couldn't. I guess my mind is still elsewhere, it seems like it will always be this way. Whenever I lose something, real, imaginary, conceptual, or whatever, it takes me years to get over it. The last time I had to get over something this bad took me 3 years and I never thought I'd feel any differently. After the one year mark you kind of just accept it and you get so used to the crying and self-abuse that it's habit, and it's the only thing that keeps you from falling deeper into despair.

"The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.
What matter where, if I be still the same,
And what I should be, all but less than he
Whom thunder hath made greater? Here at least
We shall be free ..."
-- (Satan) Paradise Lost (bk. I), John Milton

I'm fucking depressed and I'm rereading Paradise Lost online. I did a term paper way back in college on Milton's own personal tragedies and how his losses made Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained such beautiful emotional epics. Sigh. I was depressed then too and dropped out later after trying to kill myself, I just couldn't get the energy to wake up and go to classes again.

Late night 5am quiz

Think hard on your answers here... If I had my comment place in system I would be able to know what people would choose. I was thinking about the fundemental truths in life and what singular quality that can be attributed to those that we admire. I know many people admire stupid people, yes all of you admire stupid people. That's okay. We need people to look up to that are smarter than us, and if they are stupid, well at least we're trying to go somewhere. It's the whole point of learning.

Think about these choices, and please no cheating like, I pick RICH, so I can BUY everything; because I then diagnose you as a snot-faced teenager without much on his mind execept how to hide that horrible pimple on your face and just how can I bone that dog-ugly cheerleader, because she's the only popular girl who might date someone who doesn't wash her face. I don't think she washes her face either, so that makes us equal right?

Having one quality does not mean you have any of the others. This is the way the real world works. I'm sorry.

Anyway this is my list:
1. Happiness
2. Truth
3. True Faith in the Divine (any religion/faith/belief/spirtuality goes here.) -- BTW, if you're Jewish by religion and would like to discuss things, please write to me. I haven't some difficulty with, well, the whole Torah, because so many of the words are non-translateable to English cultural meanings and I need some help here. A lot.)
4. Youth
5. Wisdom
6. Intelligence
7. Skillful
8. Beautiful
9. Powerful
10. Rich
11. Dead

My interpretations are on the negative side. Certainly there are (some) good qualities to all traits, but humankind likes to pick the worst aspect of each and live it out to the fullest.

1. Happiness --> (Ignoring the world around you.)
2. Truth --> (Misery.)
3. True Faith in the Divine --> (A path to follow, and a true goal to stride for.)
4. Youth --> (Ignorance)
5. Wisdom --> (You cannot teach Wisdom in the true sense of the word.)
6. Intelligence --> (You are always lacking.)
7. Skillful --> (You can do a lot of things, but not everything, and not perfectly.)
8. Beautiful --> (You are valued for sexual use in the eyes of the common, in the eyes others you are just a pretty picture with no soul.)
9. Powerful --> (Power is a trait of dominating the weak. You pity others if you admit or not. You value yourself only.)
10. Rich --> (You care singularly about one thing, a trait that is a manmade construct -- Pathetic.)
11. Dead --> (You have reached a sort of peace with yourself, that no one else can match.)


I'd like to end this early morning braindead post by saying my friend Erin Mae, who can poledance very well, is doing her thesis on the mating habits of new world (or old world) which one don't have tales? Old world, she's going to study gurillea group behavior and other primate adaptations in social situations and how this can be applied to modern day humanistics, especially a social slant on feminism. She is really smart, amazingly so. And her cats are Garamel and Grigori. She's as you guess very attractive too, but college and such has a damper on her love life and all she can seem to meet are drunk idiots with too many problems (like me, substitute drunk with drugs, but she still wuvs me.), or married sity slicker men who already have wives. I feel sorry for her. She should finish her thesis this summer or next year and then it's bye bye and I will miss her a lot cause she's a really good vegan cook and she's Really superfragalicious'ly cool. That is too a word. I'm going to miss her post-modernist feminist 20 page final papers totally bashing men and using her great Monkey! knowledge to totally baffle the professors into being bumbling idiots. And well me too, but they are good essays once I start digging into them. It's a weekend project, or two at the least for each one. Great work and I think we will see her in National Geographic someday or perhaps even a highly respected journal like Science publishing her theories.

Okay. I'm waxing on about her, because she has these goals and a lot of problems (Wellbutrin 600mg a day), crying spells, you name it. But she's slogging through it. And for today. She's my inspriation. So you go Erin Mae, you have the most vitality I know out of everyone; and I've never seen anyone dance better than you in cowbow boots and full-attire with a sparkly hat in a goth club and get the most Boners out of a room, while all the goth girls grimace at your "lack of style". You got style.

Okay wow. I'm so tired I'm manic. Sorry about that. Time to cut down on the uh 80 calorie yogurt I'm eating. My eyes hurt. And all my loves deserve kisses. One kiss. Two kiss. Three kiss. And four for sure.

Sweet dreams, and best things.

Surprise (Really)

Tonight I couldn't sleep for a change. I am very tired, my legs kept jerking around so finally I took the klonopin I'm prescribed and two xanax. That was well over 4 hours ago. I've pretty much spent the last 5 hours in bed trying desperately to sleep. It's hard to keep my eyes open. I keep yawning. But sleep won't come. I guess this is in a way, what I sort of wanted, but not exactly how I wanted it accomplished. I didn't want to have anymore dreams. Sigh. On the bright side I don't feel sick. I set my alarm for noon to get up and take all my morning pills and then go back to bed if I can (I'm usually asleep by 7am at least), and I set my alarm from 8am-12pm to at least take my stimulant during the day hours and all the morning vitamins I'm supposed to take only during the day so I'm not restless during the night. Heh. Except I'm restless, just like the old days, around two weeks ago. I don't know what I hate more. Oh well. I guess I'll browse the fishboards or something stupid for 15 or so minutes and then take a hot shower. 5am is when my mom wakes up so maybe I'll have breakfast. I have no appetite though so probably not. I'm not losing any fucking weight either. Sigh.

I've felt really bad today. This is the first time in a while that I've cried a lot and been unable to stop myself. I don't know what's happening to me.

Sick

I feel very out of it and I'm sick I think. I keep trying to make entries but I can't get online but I try to write them down on paper. I'll put them online when I feel better. Sorry.

Firefox vs. IE & Screen Resolutions

I wish firefox supported CSS tags for changing the appearence of the browser bar. IE supports it, but that's about the only thing that works in IE without me having to fuck around and do something ultra complicated just so it looks okay in one browser, while making most stuff work in Firefox doesn't take work, it just works. I also discovered since I've been fucking around with my Dad's computer and fixing it up good since I was at it, that I need to change all the hard work I put into static placement of my layout as it doesn't scale to higher resolutions very well at all. I was working on it at a much lower screen resolution and didn't think about. Now I need to change static pixel placements with relative absolutes and hope and pray that stuff renders it how I want.
I have some ideas for graphics to use, but I'm going to work on that much later, but the ideas and early concenptial stuff is working good.

Garamond is good.

This is another stupid post seeing if things are working. Garamond looks really nice once you make it very large and bold, I'm using it for all the headers now. I'm boring myself that I'm going to sleep now.

This is a really long test title, to see how things work, while I mess with stuff.

Trying to get an option title for each entry to work and make sure it doesn't work when I don't use a title. Ahh.

I spent 2 hours this morning fixing my fucking dad's computer. Then I spent another hour or so working on my page and didn't really accomplish anything except swearing about Garamond verses Verdana and how frustrated I was that stuff wasn't working right. I did manage to do a few things that no one will probably notice, but it's some work done.

I'm tired today. Last night I saw this really great music video that Lauren made and I appreciated it a lot, and I thought it was great. With the background music and how it was, it was all simplistic but had a lot of meaning to it I felt. I also talked to Sarah who has a bf and she wants to fool around with me in real life still and I said maybe in a few months like I always do. Ugh. I'm not any fun for anyone.

Can't believe I've been fucking with this thing for 3 hours. Time just passes really fast when I'm trying to figure out how to do fancy shit that I don't know how to do. I need to get a book on CSS so I can actually catch up. All this stuff is new to me again and I'm having to relearn everything, albeit it's a lot better than writing a page in HTML 3, style sheets make stuff so much easier and cooler. Div's make things how you want them to look, exactly. Which is good. I'm done for now. Tired of looking up stuff and constantly hitting the reset button to see what it does.

Bleh. I've been messing with background images but I don't think I can layer one completely on the whole page it makes stuff unreadable unless the image is very light, or if I make a black/white box for the text to be in which looks stupid. I fixed a few things, but the page is displaying right in IE but in Mozilla the alignment is wrong. For now I'm just going to have stuff centered until I get a good idea for corner decorations, probably just top left or something and align the div's from there. I had an entire Avril collage on the page as a background but reading the text was hard and you couldn't really see Avril with all the text on top - so doubly pointless. I need an Avril thing on here somehow, maybe a red Avril star with frilly doodles coming out of the side to the right and straight down, that'd be an okay corner, but I need photoshop to make it. Argh.

I've been having extremely vivid and realistic dreams this past two weeks. I know when I first started Lexapro a while back I had the same kind of dreams, but not as powerful for a week until it wore off. I don't know why I'm having dreams now. I also woke up around 3am with another painful priapism. The only thing I can think of is that the trazadone is causing it. As I did take it last night at 12:30am, but it's never caused painful erections that last for hours. There isn't a whole lot I can do about them either, just sit up (the most comfortable position so my penis isn't touching anything) and wait it out and if it gets too painful use ice cubes on the base to numb some of the pain.

I've been having a contiguous dream about being a private in the army at some school for training, scientific training. Except I'm so scared, like I was in high school and I kept breaking stuff during experiments and I don't know how to find a towel after I take a shower, or how to get food. Basically I don't know how to do anything right and I get yelled at and reprimanded a lot. I'd say this is an almost lucid dream, I know it's going on, and it's very real, but I don't realize it's not real, I just do what Allen would do in that situation, which is freak out and be very nervous and scared the whole time. I have this dream starting from where it left off almost every night now.

The other dream I have is about going to Longmont College, which doesn't exist, but it was a nightmare that I had when I was younger, around the age of 19 and I had dropped out of college at least once. It's very regimented and again I dream a lot about being late to class, and in class everything is hard for me to understand and I'm very frustrated. I'm not a stupid person and I never have a difficult class that makes me frustrated. When I turn in homework or am doing diagrams, like when I was dreaming last night, I was drawing basic cell diagrams showing how the cell membrane and inner cell looks exposed to different concentrations of aqueous solutions. I couldn't draw worth shit even though this is an easy thing to diagram and when I handed it in the female teacher (I think it was female) kind of laughed and told me to do it again and to not slack. I was so embarrassed, because everyone else heard it.

Then I when I woke up, it was after the college dream and it was 4am, and I was hallucinating for real. Not visual or auditory, but mentally. I was like, fuck, my mom takes a shower at 5am, but I need to get ready by 6am to go to college and if I take a shower now there won't be hot water for her and she'll be mad. So I sat there for 30 minutes with my stomach twisting in knots because I didn't know what to do. Finally it dawned on me that I really wasn't in college.
I'll be really honest, but this is happened every morning for several months. I'll wake up and freak out about being late for school and it takes me a while to get back to reality. I know hallucination an uncommon side effect of being on antidepressants , but I've also had the wake up and freak out about school thing going on since 19 or so.
I think all of these dreams are somehow related to how I see myself as a failure and how things didn't work out in the story I haven't told you, the story I haven't told anyone, not even my therapist. I think I might talk to my new therapist if I can trust him. I'll see him in 1.5 months if I decide that I'm going to start therapy again.

Last night I experimented more with anal play and used the end of a hairbrush, made out of plastic with ribbing. The kind that Cassy told me she loves to masturbate with sometimes because the ribbing makes it hurt a little and feel so good. I didn't do any prep other than sticking a finger up my ass and playing and then oiling up my asshole and the hairbrush. I pressed it in an inch, to the part where stuff stops until you relax your whole body, then I just took a breath and let my entire body go, and pushed the entire thing inside and was so disappointed that it wasn't longer. I'd guess that it was 5" inside me. From reading non-biased articles by women who prefer (or like anal sex a lot), they say to use a dildo about 7" long for the best pleasure. I know their clit is about 2.5" inside, while my prostrate is a little before that, 2" right where I can stick my middle finger in up to the middle knuckle and press my flesh up against my prostrate as though it's some kind of male clit and I rub it like one. I didn't do much with the brush I just fucked myself with it, fairly fast, and the ridges made it feel so heavenly, there is so much sensation up there, it feels better than having sex with all the nerve endings inside. I'd fuck myself with it and because I wished it was thick like a dick or dildo, I'd grab the end of it and twirl it up and down while pumping it in and out of me. I felt so satisfied after I was done, which is something I can't really say about any other kind of sex I've done. I felt fulfilled, instead of kind of emotionally and physically drained like other kinds of sex. For my next experiment I need to find something bigger. I was thinking the age-old cucumber, but I don't think I'm ready for that size, I know I can take it, but I don't know if I'd like it yet. I can't think of anything round and at least an 1" in diameter and 5" or longer. Argh. I'll search the house at night to find stuff. There has to be something usable.

I met a friend of Lauren's a couple day ago, Sherri. She seems to be very nice and fun to talk to. There's a shrine to Robert Smith above her bed and I asked if I could worship and she said I'd have to have sex with her, so I didn't get to worship. Erin gave me her new address in Lubbock today and said she will kill me if I don't write to her, so I better write to her, and stuff. I've been neglecting to write to people because I've felt so bad, but I'm going to start up again and make her a handmade card and write on some pretty stationary to make up for it, and I need to write to Brianna and maybe mail her some xanax or something too.

I spent some time on my new look. I have some things to improve, mostly the leftside bar and I need to decide if I want a static layout like this or if I want normal toolbars on the side. I can't decide for now. I do need a background image, I have some pictures I'm going to mess around with, probably so a sepia filter on and lighten and blur it enough so it doesn't draw your eye to it. I need the inspiration to do that. On the right side, I don't know what I'm going to do. I was going to do another picture just by itself, but if I go back to normal scrollbars I think I won't have a side image. Just a static background image, and I guess I'd remove all the internal scrollbars.

Well it's 9:30, spent about an hour on my blog updating it, time to try to sleep. Yeah right, but I should at least try.

I had a horrible priapasm for 3.5 hours, it hurt a great deal at the base and well everywhere. I tried dunking it in cold water, which dulled the pain but didn't do anything. I finally ended up using ice cubes for 30 minutes before it started to get soft. It was pretty scary. I'm not on anything anymore that is supposed to cause it. I just woke up because the pain was so intense, I had no idea what it was.

I'm going to try remaking my blog in the next few days or weeks or months; before I moved it to my own place and use MovableType and add images as I don't really have a place to put pictures of my own.
So if my website looks like crap at times, well fuck off, I'm working on it.

Somehow I lost 2 hours, when I only meant to spend 30 minutes updating the links. The time passed really quickly. Strange, but it was enjoyable to be lost in the moment. I haven't felt like that in a while -- to be so self centered on an activity that thinking about anything else is banished from my mind. The last time I've acheived that state was while doing my community service. It was an enjoyable experience. Anyway, I've been thinking once I get back on track with my computer fully working the way I want it to and paying my Earthlink bills so I have my own internet email and webspace, that I will switch from blogger to MovableText. It is all the rage of course, but I need more flexibility and I want to host it on my own webspace, so putting in pictures won't be such a hassle and I can host them on my own site. I feel somewhat limit in my blogging as I've been somewhat of an addict of photoblogging now, and since I took a few new pictures (but no way to upload them), I want to do some photoblogging (of my own sources and pictures on the web) as another way of creative writing. The current metatexual experiments are intriguing and enjoyable to participate in and I want to think of a way to do that to my site, probably a form of linkism experimentation with a social aspect to see how online groups respond and react to and track the linking trends. Anyway, that's a ways off, but it's a project I want to implement in this, and I guess that means going public, but who cares. Or maybe I'll have to blogs, one that's experimental and this one, that remains for the most part unchanged in how I journal (pretty much the same since I started blogging).
Anyway, I'm finally off to other places, now that I wasted 2 hours that I was supposed to be doing Other things. So that's all for now.

I woke up this morning to a postcard. It made me so happy for a few minutes that I forgot why I feel so bad. I think I'm going to try to write about it, the real reason behind my current depression and how awful I feel right now. I don't know if I can, but I can't stop the memories from running through my mind, from start to finish and then all over again, like my entire brain is set on repeat. I'm hemoragging hurt for not letting the fantasy continue; what I've never let anyone know. I still don't, but written words will give the memory a safe place to sleep and let me finally sleep, dreaming of what I never had.
::cry::

Good morning Colorado. I see your pink clouds pouring over the sky now, sun peeking up, oh how dusty looking you are, guess it's going to be another overcast day with your mood. The pink and the sky blue air mingle together now, congregrate and slowly with its doleful pace brings us to today.

And I'm awake. 3 pills of ambien (yes I did swallow them), and 3 pills of trazadone. I'm not the least bit tired and that 1.5 hours ago. So dear, I don't know what to so. I'm going to make myself some french toast, and go play in the shower some more.

You see I made this discovery that I already knew about. When someone was first teaching me about anal play, more like frighting me about it, but nonetheless teaching me - something, I'm sure I learned something from those scared moments. To get back on topic, however, I played for a while [location: shower], and sure enough it all came back to me. The little things that I knew. The strange way that my hard cock goes limp, slowly, slowly as if it is being choked, as it is still full of blood. It's a strange sight. Well anyway, it too has its ups and downs as I well finger my through this, reach points of hallucinatory fireworks behind my eyes and reaching other places that are just too tense right now, too unsure of myself and that red cock slowly goes back down (what a tired thing it must be). I'm more sure of myself now, knowing just where to push Down inside me to make a little tickle feeling inside, just right where my prostrate is. Tiny fireworks, for something, a bit more explosive, I need something phallus shaped, but can I get it in me? I don't even have the proper kind of lube with me, this was a spur of a moment thing. Oil lubricant is to thin and too runny. I need something thick, something that stays on the surface of my flesh, my ass, and whatever I'm putting in it. All I have for now is shampoo bottle, hardly eny length at all -- this is going to be disappointing. Yeah right, I don't even think I can put that in me right, I haven't played anally in a serious way in a very, very long time; I'm much too tense for that. I decide who cares, lets find out and see if I'm wrong. I lather the bottle up with oil trying to get it to congeal to the plastic as best as I can, not very good at all, I lube both fingers up and run them up and down my asshole making sure that it too has some lubrication and last but not least I finger the outside of my anus and make sure it's slicked up, all while fireworks and a moan is going off in the back of my head. God that feels good rubbing the outside of my ass. I was afraid to admit, but someone rimming feels really fucking good, I was just scared that they'd ask me to do it. I didn't know what to do. I was scared they might be dirty or whatever. I don't care anymore, as long as they are wasted, I want to taste their asshole and run my tongue in a circle around that indelible flesh and listen to their soft whimperings and moanings, wondering what they are thinking about right now. I'm thinking of something hard and warm right now, but I don't have a guy around who will fuck me how I want it. So I'm back to this bottle. It's so hard, foreign and alien. I'm scared now, even before I never tried something this big. I try to veer for the best way to get in me, first on my back, legs up in the air, then crouched on my knees and lowering myself on top of it. There I can feel it, slowly, a little bit painful without enough lube, but not hurting, feel it enter me and I encounter the top of the bottle before I know it. I'm saddened at the thought. I know I can't fit that in me -- yet, or ever. But I really wish I had a dildo somewhere so I could manipulate it just right, the pressure of one or two fingers inside me pushing against my prostate, I need more pressure, more flesh, all of it inside me. I know where my prostate is laying ready for me to tease it, to rub it, to fuck it, and it's ready to make me cum. I almost came just sliding one finger inside and running circles around my sphicter, those were orgasmic like eruptions in the back of my head and the beginning of my whole body shaking, but I stopped. When I come for the first time, I want to come with something inside me, rubbing my prostrate, and oh how good does it feel. I can't wait until tomorrow to search for something more suitable and longer. I want it now, more than I've ever wanted anything sexually.

"His addiction was to courses vain."
-- Shakespeare, Henry V, 1. 1

books and cds. those are my drugs. i want some more.
...
Christy Affection is like a drug. The more I receive, the more I need. I'm addicted to his words, his touch, the way my name slides musically through his lips. I crave his presense, if only for a moment. He's a more powerful drug than anything you can produce in nature or a lab.
...
amorfus i try to limit myself to clean drugs, like rice, fruit, nuts and beans, mushrooms, lsd.
...
moonshine Mangos
...
josie what is that drug that Homer licks off the back of that toad? someone mail me and let me know! ...
gwyllynne the semi-erotic tingle coursing through my veins
...
guitar_freak the drug of my choice
was so fun at first
now I just try to
remember the friends I've lost
as I patch up my life
...
the conveyor shahla was a drug. michelle was a drug. amy was a drug. diana was a drug. andrea was a drug. sarah was a drug. cara was a drug. lara was a drug. tammy was a drug. dana was a drug. christy was a drug.

I really like drugs.
...
deb i am a drug...
and so is he...
what's terrible is
now that we have this
dreadful
900-ish miles between us
again
we're going through withdrawl
and it's only been a week

i miss you~
...
*silent screams Your the new drug addiction I have found...u comfort my fears and distort my realities
...
margadant11 drugs... they make me a better person, I can do things I wouldn't normally do when I am under the influence... they give me self esteem courage intelligence and strength... but after it wears I find myself reviewing my stupidly and the pains I case friend and family, the pain I caused myself... it must end before it's to late...
...
you told me you wanted to be someone's drug.
that you wanted to be my drug.
you wanted me to be addicted to you
i don't know how possible that is, but we can always try. can a drug be addicted to another drug? a chemical be reliant on another chemical? i suppose. look at water. h2o

displacement: when you quit one drug, you start another. i'm trying to quit smoking, and i'm starting to drink coffee again. i'm losing sleep, i'm losing weight, i'm not happy. i'm reverting back to eighth grade, the year of hell, the era of my depression. [see: frappuccino]
...
jane i wish you were my drug. i wish i could do you

There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy.
-- Albert Camus

Hope in reality is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man.
--Friedrich Nietzsche

"you're too much of a sweet heart to stay in pain"

from months ago from a thorn that will always be in my heart. making me feel.

I had some dreams about killing myself, most of them involved overdose. I had a lot of drawn-out dreams with a lot of fighting with my father and some fighting with my mother. I want to kill myself right now or do anything so I feel a little alive. Sigh.

I fucking worked on my computer for more than an hour and guess what, the stupid fucking old man did not fix it. What a waste of my dad's money. He still insists on taking it back and letting him "fix" it. I'm never going to get it back in working condition. Sigh. I'm frustrated.

I'm a little sure today from barely working out. Yay. At least I'm getting something done (fitness wise). I didn't sleep last night, but I feel okay today. I'm waiting for the crash to come, which always happens. Drat.

I pronounce myself as fit as a high school child, which is not to say, that fit, as I could be any person in high school. I only did 20 push-ups and sit-ups w/o any rest between them with relative ease, which is sub-par for being "fit". But it is an improvement from what I have been doing, which is mostly a decadent lifestyle of reading to escape reality, and when I do confront reality I turn to the past and memories that comfort or hurt, or both, but they are familiar and do not scare me at least.
My next goal is to work up my aerobic and strength level to basic requirements for army basic training (in other words to be considered of average physical fitness level, the bare minimum for my age group 21-24), which should take me a while, considering my lackadaisical pessimism and ability to be dedicated to a regimented schedule. It is still a goal though, and it will involve aerobic exercise in my workout instead of pure strength training, which I enjoy, but I get intensely strong and bulked up that it scares me when taking supplements to stimulate gH release. Somewhere on this journey I want to drop quite a bit of weight and the aerobic exercise should do that, while offsetting the weight gain of anaerobic exercise (but increasing my metabolism too, a good plus), so hopefully a reasonable goal of 140lb while looking like 120lb and fitting into size 28 jeans again with ease will be a reality. Oh how I lust for you, size 28, normal cut with a reasonable amount of give.

Here are the goals I have set for myself (with the equipment I have, I can't swim or do pull-ups, and used the alternate test of a stationary bike instead of a 2 mile run.):
push-ups: minimum 42 in 2 minutes
2 minute rest
sit-ups: minimum 50 in 2 minutes
2 minute rest
stationary bike: 6.2 miles in at least 24.5 minutes

After I reach average fitness levels I'll do more endurance training with weights while alternating with the stationary bike on off-days so that I remain aerobically fit. It is embarrassing to be quite strong and tire out in 5 minutes because I never did any aerobic exercise. What's the point in being strong if you can't keep it up? I have a plan. Now I need to execute it and keep with it.

Anyway, off of that subject. I've been re-reading House of Leaves, which is a good book, but annoying at times. I'm at the part where you need a mirror to read parts of it, where it starts to get crazy, but not nearly as crazy as it will get. It's poetry with words, or artwork with words, something like that. I don't know how to describe it, but I really should finish it. I admire the sheer propensity of the author and that it got published. The story is very engaging, Gormenghast like in a lot of respects (organic house as to an organic castle), and the side story, or maybe the main story (you don't know what is the main story honestly is also a good exploration into psychosis, perhaps familiar at times, and altogether frightening at others. I'm 1/4 done. Last time, somewhere before Christmas, I was 1/2 way through when really bad depression hit me and I was unable to concentrate on anything and read anything so I had to stop. I intend to finish it this time, even though it's hard to digest due to the portentous style of it, but enjoyable as an exercise to frustrate and elucidate my mind.

Brianna called me today, like she has been doing everyday from the Ward. She said one of the staff members was going out to go rent Donnie Darko and get a pizza for everyone, since it's the weekend. It's amazing how much modern wards have changed compared to the popular image of them. They are really quite nice, except when you are on suicide watch and you aren't allowed to sit up, etc., until you earn a modicum of trust from the staff. Sometimes the Dr.'s and psychiatrists are pure assholes, I suppose after seeing so many people come in and go, and sometimes repeat people, you start to lose hope in helping people and become a jerk. That is my theory on that. Brianna has the same Dr., as the last time she was in the hospital ward, and she says she's a bitch. I feel sorry for her. They put her on wellbutrin and trazadone, but the trazadone doesn't work for her, and she's on 100mg, so tomorrow she's being switched to some other sleeping pill, but I didn't recognize the name of it. They still have her on night watch, where they keep the doors open and someone sits outside on a chair and occasionally shines a flashlight inside to check. When I was on night watch, I couldn't turn off the lights and I couldn't get out of bed without an armed staff member (with a gun no less) to watch me pee, which is the only reason I could move from a prone position. Sitting up was not even allowed. The door was kept open and he and another staff member played chess or cruised around on the internet while keeping an eye on me. Besides all this, what I was getting at is that you get to do what you want during the day at most wards except for group therapy or whatever they push on you, and daily or close to daily visits from your Dr. or psychiatrist to monitor your condition. The door always remains open in suicide wards but you get used to it pretty fast. When I was in Cedar house I didn't even get checked on while sleeping and I got to close my door and had a roommate (everyone has a roommate in wards unless you get put in isolation for violating a rule -- i.e.. cutting, smoking where it's not allowed, not doing your chores, and so on. I miss Cedar House honestly. It felt like a nice, well setting, except you saw the staff once in a while. Pretty much you were living with other "afflicted" people with their own disorders, but everyone got along and I'd read the paper every morning and politely refuse coffee (not sure why I didn't want coffee -- strange), and then sit back on the couch curled up with my feet under me and watch the TV and zone for a while and then go outside and just breath the air and smoke some cigarettes and have small chat with other people. It was like a real life, several people there that had been there for a month or so used the place as their residence while trying to find alternate places to live and trying to find a job. It was pretty cool. If I go "crazy" again, I hope I go back to Cedar House. It's nice. It's bizarre for me to be lusting after the comfort and protection of a mental ward. The world has changed in so many ways, we treat the the socially unfit with kindness and no disrespect, yet we are a strongly racist society that enjoys to go to war with nations that have no ability to even fight back, and for reasons that aren't reasons at all. I'm saddened by the progress and lack of progress in this world.

I talked to Katja last night when I couldn't sleep for around an hour, from 4-5am. It was nice to talk to her again. I hardly ever see her on because she's from Slovenia so unless I'm awake in the morning I usually don't ever see her. It's so weird how I still talk to her and Sarah. Weird and good. The only other person I talk to from online that I've known online is Maegan, and of course Jen and Nicole. I did not fall asleep at all. I'm so... Strung out. It feels like I can fall asleep, but I can't. It's very frustrating.

Nights laying in bed when I'm not able to sleep (almost every night now it seems) are when I feel lonely. It just feels wrong being there alone, or not having anybody to call or talk to, or not having a roommate's door to knock on and quietly whisper until they wake up. All I need is a hug, or maybe I need more. I need something that I don't have. This feeling is made worse by the fact that no one is online to talk to me, not even the people I don't talk to. Its a mean kind of thing, that I talk to people who don't talk to me when I'm desperate and I have no one else ALIVE to speak to. I don't want to share my misery or lack of hope, I just want to share my hand and a midnight story in soft tones. Everyone else in the world is sleeping, tucked away in blankets and they have dreams for company. When I'm awake at night I have no one but myself and the sorrowful dirge of the music that consoles and saddens me at the same time.
I hate being alone. Each night points out this fact again and again. I hate the night, the same night that I used to love for the same reasons I hate it now.

Modest Mouse - Lives

Everyone's afraid of their own life
If you could be anything you want
I bet you'd be disappointed, am I right?
No one really knows the ones they love
If you knew everything they thought
I bet that you'd wish that they'd just shut up
Well, you were the dull sound of sharp math
When you were alive
No ones gonna play the harp when you die
And if I had a nickel for every damn dime
I'd have half the time, do you mind?
Everyone's afraid of their own lives
If you could be anything you want
I bet you'd be disappointed, am I right?
Am I right? And it's our lives
It's hard to remember, it's hard to remember
We're alive for the first time
It's hard to remember were alive for the last time
It's hard to remember, it's hard to remember
To live before you die
It's hard to remember, it's hard to remember
That our lives are such a short time
It's hard to remember, it's hard to remember
When it takes such a long time
It's hard to remember, it's hard to remember:
My mom's God is a woman and my mom she is a witch
I like this
My hell comes from inside, comes from inside myself
Why fight this
Everyone's afraid of their own lives
If you could be anything you want
I bet you'd be disappointed, am I right?

Leave me alone, if you don't know me. I hate people who talk about me and pretend to know the depth of what I'm feeling and summarize the entirety of myself in a few short desultory words. Fuck off.

I didn't sleep last night, just drifted in and out and kept hearing voices of people awake and it made for some really strange dreams for when I did fall asleep briefly. The main focus of the off & on dream was that somehow I had enrolled in college again, but after the first day I decided I was going to quit because the English teacher was mean to me, and so was the math teacher, and in English class everyone was popular and hated me. I hate college dreams like that, or high school dreams. I have them so often too in relation to other dreams I have.

It feels like I'm living inside a postcard and sometimes, like right now, I'm looking at the inside and knowing that it's all staged and the director of my head is telling me where everyone should be for the perfect shot of my soul to show people on the outside. It's all smiles and cheer, until the camera snaps and it's back to bickering and crying.

A friend called me from the hospital ward yesterday and I'm really sad and worried about her. I keep hoping that she is okay. I don't know what to do and I don't think I can do anything, I can't call there I'm pretty sure. I've tried calling the # that she calls from and it doesn't ring.

I'm starting to feel a little better than I have been I think. Tomorrow, I might, maybe, bump my effexor xr dose up another 75mg. I'll decide then. The problem is I won't have any Monday, but I have my appointment then too, but I take it in the morning, but I guess I can take it in the evening and it won't matter very much. This anhedonic way of living just is draining me of any feeling. I can't get excited about anything it feels like. The stuff I care about I just let rot and don't work on. It's been like this since I've been depressed and I hate it. I want to have some motivation to actually do something. So I actually start doing stuff. So I really work out. So I really finish setting the fish tank up. So I really get a life. I hate feeling nothing.