Can you believe I've been at this for over 500 entries?
Me neither, actually.
Who is your look-alike?
Today's writer's block.
The number of people who said "my look-alike is me" was frankly startling. I want someone to explain that logic to me, in fact. You can't look like yourself because you are yourself. Christ, you people are thick.
My look-a-like is my daughter. She is my "mini-me". She acts like me, too. Which is fair warning to everyone. Yes, there are two of me. BEWARE!!!
And there's a picture of you and your daughter. Twin hambeasts.
It's said that you learn something new every day. What did you learn today?
Nothing.
I learned absolutely fuck all today.
Today I learned the side effects of going two days without a mood-altering drug. I have always hated having weaknesses and most of all, having to admit that I do. But, for the sake of my fellow humans, I take full responsibility for the fact that I have Bipolar Disorder and I stay medicated.
Great. Can we go five entries without someone being on wacky pills?
I would wager we cannot because if it hasn't happened in 3 years I don't think it's going to happen.
The boyfriend is what most normies would call an "intellectual". Being that intelligent has it's privileges (like knowing how to spell "privilege" without spell check).
But doesn't extend as far as knowing the difference between 'its' and 'it's'. I guess that makes me some sort of genius.
But I have learned recently that he is so wrapped up in knowledge and facts that he misses out on life and moments. Which makes me really question the nature of our relationship.
And you're pilled up because you can't keep your emotions in check. Who are you to judge what counts as a fulfilling life, really?
Scenario: It's 8 p.m. and it's the baby's bed time. All three children are dancing in the living room when they are supposed to be quiet to encourage the baby to get ready for bed.
Boyfriend's reaction: "Damnit! They know it's bedtime. They do this every night. Pisses me the fuck off"
He's just angry he waited too long or is too much of a whipped faggot to find a woman that isn't a mess with 5 broods of failure.
And is apparently not smart enough to become a sage like myself.
My reaction: "Awe. They are teaching their little brother the Funky Chicken. That is so FREAKIN' CUTE!!!"
Here's where the problem is....both reactions are reasonable. Just polar opposite. I know that my children should follow rules. I know what bed time is and how important it is. But how many times will my baby learn the Funky Chicken for the first time?
I'm 24 and I don't even know what the funky chicken is. I think this is a moment you can safely pass.
So it's been a whole year since I caught a case of the cancer. So much has happened since then that I sometimes, almost, maybe forget that it even happened. Or rather, I try to forget it. I had no one. I had no support. Seemed like nobody cared. Now, with a checkup right around the corner, with almost a morbid, sick sense of self, I hope that I have cancer again.
Errr--
Are you sure you had cancer?
Because I know people who have and I'm pretty sure they don't wish they had it again.
Somewhat of a do-over, if you will. This time, I have an amazing support system. People who love and adore me.
So--
Successfully fighting off cancer wasn't enough of a victory?
Okay, man. Whatever.
This time, I wouldn't even tell my family what was going on. I need to shake these emotions. NO CANCER!!! And these people that I thought I could depend on, they are a cancer in my life....slowly draining me...mercilessly taking my happiness and bliss.
What the actual fuck are you talking about?
You just said you had an amazing support system so you hope you can get cancer so you can see how you can impose on your poor family (I guess) and you're going to exercise the dumbest wish I've ever heard in my entire life by promptly not telling the people you were just raving about.
I will have no more of it. I am spreading the Chemo. Take that, selfish bastards.
On the flip side...My people are amazing. I am in such a happy place right now. A few good reasons to fight like mad.
Was this written by taking sentences from random sources and arranging them so they appear like they were written together? This is the entire post unedited. I have left no part out.
Maybe you should be on pills, woman.
I live by three easy rules...1) Love everyone. 2) Tell people you love them. 3) Accept their love in return. Pretty simple stuff. Sometimes hard to remember.
Those are pretty douchey rules.
I think the reason those rules are hard to remember is because they suck.
My name is Elizabeth (Ringueberg, Lowery) Payne. I was raised by my parents. We lived in an upper-middle class house. I went to a private magnet school for gifted children. I guess you could say I am smart.
I wouldn't say that about you but I guess the words could be spoken by me, sure.
Most people I know now would just tell you that I am a smart ass. Mostly, I am. But, I am intelligent.
How are you intelligent, exactly?
I honestly have yet to see any real proof of this outside of you're a little articulate.
I guess. I mean you did have an entire post I didn't understand but your grammar is at least passable.
Though, I have found, that many people don't appreciate that part of me, and more times than not it can offend. I was never proud of my intelligence. I just wanted to be like everyone else. On purpose, I failed the 7th grade so I would be put in a regular junior high school.
SEE? SMART.
Shortly after graduation I went to Texas to visit my sister. A week later I was married.
I was 18, married to a man I didn't knw, and the full time stepmother of two children. I was scared out of my mind. All I knew was that I wanted to go home. Within a couple of months I got pregnant. She's eleven now.
"Let me present my case for why I am indeed intelligent."
She saved my life. I stopped the drinking and the drugs. I guess I am stronger than most of the other people in my family when it comes to overcoming addiction.
I glossed over it but the drug she was "addicted" to was pot.
And I made it to the start of her blog.
Which is really handy because I can't take this shit anymore.
Bye fags.
No comments:
Post a Comment