A story to tell…

I really like telling stories.  Not really to anyone in general but mostly in my head because I make great short stories in my head that will probably never become a full fledged novel or even a short story.

Got any ideas?  I’ve got email.  I’m happy to read them, give pointers/what i think would be cool (because really i’m not much of a writer myself) because bouncing ideas is fun and bouncy.

ok.  so one idea i had was about bubbles.  i know it sounds weird, but you guys should know me by now and if you’re already this deep into this blog you’re accepting of the crazy.  I appreciate and fear your tenacity.

So!  Bubbles.  as in, our own little bubble worlds.  The ones where if you peek inside of a group of people walking around the mall, they will have a completely different world going on compared to the next bubble, and the next bubble, and the next bubble, AND FOREVER….  So my writing idea was about writing different stories based on one person in each bubble then either that being the end, or having something really climatic happen and you probably already know where i’m going on this….

 

Am I really that predictable?

Doing the opposite

TRIGGER WARNING…..

I’m fucking drunk.  I’m mentally ill and having a VERY bad moment… ok it’s been a few hours but wtf ever.  I am not going to be talking about fluffy kittens and unicorns.  If that is why you’re here then here:

These are not my pictures.  I just googled them.

Now, if that’s what you wanted then leave now.  It only gets darker from here.

 

 

 

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Still there?  wow.  grew a pair of ovaries did we?  whatever.  your sanity.

 

I get drunk when I have a breakdown so that shit makes sense to me.

Having a breakdown is not a picnic.  It’s a literal shitstorm in your mind.  Like everything in the world is just the same as it was, but now everything is screaming at you.  Inanimate objects, your internal voices (which apparently there’s really only supposed to be one but I have 6 so take that. XP)  Today it was the babygate that seperated the living room from the kitchen.  I scolded Mik (ben’s daughter) for the nth time for stepping over the damn thing instead of using it properly like i have asked her to do since it got put in the house last year.  It literally takes more effort to step over the damn thing than it does to open it and walk through.  I take a minute and do some sweeping trying to figure out why I don’t like it and tell her this:

“I don’t like you stepping over the gate because you are disrespecting my wishes and not using the gate properly.  Kind of like your door.  If I was to just open it as I so pleased without your permission then you get upset.  So please use the gate correctly and i’ll use your door correctly.”

her response? “well, you’ve walked in on me without my permission before”

My response. “Fine.  I’ll use your door as i please and you can just kick the gate down for all I care.  Does that work for you?” of course I”m not at muy normal talking voice but she starts telling me that i’m yelling.  loud-noises.gif

I don’t yell easily.  I just know how to project my voice to be heard over people.  It’s not yelling if i’m not straining.

I give up.  She finishes with the dishes and I continue with cleaning the damn living room, which has turned against me in my mind.  The fucking piano had evil eyes that wanted to kill me.  She goes for a walk and I finish cleaning before losing my shit.

everything is yelling in my head even though the house is silent. Fucking silent and all i can hear is screams.  I want to die.  Instead I take down the fucking gate so that I don’t have to have the god damn argument again.  I begin crying and wailing because of what the gate meant and how it was supposed to be there for david but david isn’t here anymore.  He can’t live here until ben fixes the fucking pipe.  when will that be?  Gods only know.

So I drink.  Because being drunk means my meltdown makes sense.  My blubbering and anger and the screaming everything makes more sense.  Because right now my head doesn’t.

 

BOO! *duck*

I love the fact that Peridot from Steven Universe just accepted and rolled with her alienness.  accepting the stickers and other weird things and making meepmorps.  I would get her gem tattooed on me but I think i would have a hard time keeping a job at that point.

(quick note that google wanted to change peridot to period and alienness to aliveness and that just makes my hour.)

So I’ve been doing better as far as my mental illness goes.  Some days are worse because I have to go to therapy or do SSI paperwork and I have to relive a lot of stuff and it makes me sad and anxious and have to take more meds than i wanted to today.  Thanks a lot deb.

Sorry if your name is deb.  I’m sure it isn’t you that i’m frustrated at.  But you could be.

Why you should duck when people say “BOO!”

I call them my Boos and when people are being rude or say mean things or are just being aggravating and anxiety inducing I yell boo and throw one.  They have grown into 4 and more will come.  If you want one let me know.  They’re 10$ in my store.

 

If anyone is wondering (mostly because i’m not sure if I’ve done this before or not) but I know that I am putting the dollar sign after the numbers because that’s how I read it/ say it so that’s how i’m spelling it.  Society be damned.  I don’t like having to look back to the beginning of your big numbers and have to go is it dollars, cents, yin, or euros?  Fuck people I have things to read!

Moving on.

Say hi to me.  Or your neighbor.  Or no one if you don’t want to.

BYE.