Archive | January 2017

The Chaos Junking

I blacked out and came to in a state of euphoria. With my back against the door jam and my leg up on the counter, my mind gave up and I let my body experience the amazing feel of him inside of me.  Just as my legs were about to give in he had me over the kitchen table with my ass up in the air and my nipples pressed against the cold oak. At that moment the only thing I could comprehend was how good it felt to be taken by this man, for that moment I completely seemed to forget that he was a psychopath.

  It only seems fitting that the most intense and mind blowing sex that I’ve experienced is with a psychopath. I’ve never done normal very successfully, instead I seem to thrive on the chaos and thrill of the fucked up. It’s not just the excitement of the sex but also the draw to their twisted mental state. I guess my own mental illness is just not enough to satisfy this urge to pursue the crazy. Hence my current love affair with a self affirmed psychopath, with four kids by three different baby mamma’s, a few DUIs, a porn director father and an inability to be faithful or truthful. My vagina, clearly, shares my enthusiasm for the insane and the amazing orgasms that come from sleeping with crazy.

I myself have a pretty mainstream and tame fucked-up-ness.  I am just a suicidal depressive, I seem to be slightly incapable of over reacting or really showing any type of extreme emotion.  I go through the motions every day, going to work, the gym, a run and that’s that.  I don’t flaunt my disease, I don’t use it as a means to make myself more interesting or intriguing.  Instead I tend to keep it to myself and if it does come up I brush it off as if spending my days wishing to die is no big deal.  

I could utilize my own issues to fulfill my desire for disaster, but instead I seek out others who are undeniably and  unapologetically fucked up. This doesn’t just happen with men, even in my friendships I find myself involved with those girls who call the cops on their boyfriends, have multiple pregnancy and STD scares, and are just flat out nuts.  And I fucking love it, it’s as if I am a chaos junking.

I have spent so much time “working on myself” and “evolving” that I’ve evolved right out of having any interesting and crazy traits for myself.  But I carve it, I feel saddened and empty when life is just fine.  I find myself working for insane bosses who ask me to do asinine things, that I always end up doing. I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to work for someone who is not a criminal of some sort, it seems as much a luxury as a death sentence for me. I wouldn’t last more than a month in a job that did not make me question my moral fiber everyday..

The awful part is that I, not so secretly, love all this shit, cause it gives me a thrill and a story.  It evokes an emotion in me that makes me feel alive.  I lie to myself all the time and say I want a simple and normal life, but the truth is I just want the tornado to go on around me while I stay safely in the eye the whole time. I want all of the benefits of leading the life of the insane without every really having to get my hands dirty. I am a mental illness voyeur, getting off on watching other people’s lives go up in flames, only offering water when I am fully satisfied.  

 

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Just Shit

It’s all just shit really, every part of it.  People may try to tell you that there are good things, or moments that make it all worth it, but that is no longer the norm.  Life, to most, is just shit.  When you fall within a certain economical and educational demographic, the reality is that life will only ever be as good as it is.  The majority of the blue collar class will never achieve greatness or even financial freedom, instead we will be working our asses off just to support ourselves.

I have been working since I was 12, I took on an after school baby sitting gig for $50 a week for the whole school year.  It consumed all of my time, and yet I agreed, because it was what I thought I was suppose to do.  I worked throughout high school, giving up things that I loves, music ensembles, plays and sunbathing while pretending to run track. Again I did this because it was simply what I was suppose to do.  I had to support myself, even as a child. I knew that it was the way of life.  I worked through college, at times having at least 3 jobs and a full course load, because it was what was expected of me.  I never once questioned it, I just worked.

I still just work, I am 32, no kids, husband, family or even pets, and yet I work.  I currently work at least 65 hours a week, often times 6 to 7 days a week.  I give it my all, I dedicate every waking hour to this job, I have once again sacrificed anything that may give me a little joy, all because I don’t know any other way.  

The sad thing is, I am not wealthy, I am not debt free, nor do I own nice things.  I am still just lower middle class.  It does not matter how much or how hard I work, this will forever be my lot in life.  I am not smart enough to advance beyond my nature path, and I’m not lazy enough to fall below.  I am just stuck, stuck working with no reason, losing any semblance of myself or what makes me happy.  And it’s all just because this is what I have been taught.  I am nothing other than my work ethic and my responsibility. But the truth is I am just nothing.  
My life seems to be a huge fucking waste of time.  I work to sustain my life, so I can in turn keep working.  But why?  I have made nothing of my life that would be worth sustaining.  I know that I will never get ahead, or fall behind for that matter, I will merely always keep sustaining…solely because it is what I am suppose to do.  But I don’t think I want to anymore, if I’m just getting by to get by, I’d rather do it on some tropical fucking island where I can sell fruit I picked to make ends meet.  My current life does not, in fact, make any sense.  My life is just shit, as is the case for most people, it will never not be shit, so why on earth am I working so hard for this shit?  

To Just Feel

I can’t actually tell you how I feel, and not because I can’t find the words, but because I am afraid they will be misconstrued. For some reason, still slightly unknown to me, I decided to enter into this situation, being fully aware of the facts and the situation.

So where does this leave me, I know that I agreed and signed up for this, I knew that in no capacity could you ever be mine, really mine. But my mind can not control my metaphorical heart and to put it simply, I love you.  This love, however, is not to be taken for anything more than that, love.

It seems that it’s nearly impossible to take anything for exactly for what it is.  We are always reading into everything, trying to find the deeper meaning or the double entendre that may exist.  Nothing is allowed to just be what is it, the sky is no longer blue but a reflection of the ocean, just as love is not love, but a million other emotions and feelings all wrapped up into one four letter word.  People no longer believe in simplicity and the art of directness, people can no longer take anything at its word, everything always has a deeper meaning.

So than what happens when you just feel something, truly and fully without any strings attached..  When there is nothing attached to the the feeling, no emotion or pre-existing circumstance making or controlling your feelings.  Is it possible for a feeling, an emotion, to just purely exist, to just be a fact with nothing else surrounding it or controlling it.  To have that feeling not expect anything in return, it just is what it is.

I feel love, what I know to be true love.  This comes with no obligation or misunderstanding.  I do not feel this love in hopes of future, a relationship or any other type of  commitment.  I just simply feel it.  I feel love.  I know all of the circumstances surrounding this love and yet it does not stop or deter me. Because I do not feel this love for anything in return.  I will not speak those three words to make anyone say or feel them back.  For the first time in my life I own the fact that I just feel something entirely.  I love fully and completely, without expecting anything in return.  I feel grateful that I have been given the chance to feel something as it is, without any expectations or stipulations.  I just love, because this is all I can do, all I can think or feel.  It’s just love, pure, intense and completely unreal.