God Please Restrain Me...

I really am having a hard time not writing terrible things via facebook. The angry-ass post that is up on this site, is no longer on facebook. The reasoning is that 1) I don't want any evidence that I wrote anything [school admins are bitches and I'd rather not go there], 2) You only have to read it once to feel the punch I want you to feel, and 3) I got to the people I wanted to. Anyone else is just another person reading some note that is just there.

But OH GOD I immensely enjoy the pain of others! [What a bitch I am] I don't even know if I can help myself. It is just too easy to fuck with people that I don't like. Don't get me wrong, I have a generally nice diposition as a person...but sometimes I just EXPLODE. With rage, with anger, and with things I always wished I could say their faces. The enjoyment is sickening. Maybe I should be locked away. Hahahahahah. Ahhh I think my uncontrollable laughter is back. Last year it was pretty well contained, but freshman year, I'm sure people thought I was insane. Hah! I am. I'm so fucking insane. I love it!

But whatever. I can't even make up my mind as to whether I'm better off now, or I was before. I'd like to think it's now, but every now and then I feel a pang of lonliness. What is this? I don't want to feel it, but I just can't. I can't stop it. At least I've stopped writing angry notes that sound like I'm going to kill myself. I don't need some damn-ass counselor trying to ask me if I'm okay. Do you fucking think I'm okay?? HAAHA...God please restrain me. I will start to scare people. This is why I want to be a writer. I just want to write about the horrible things that people think, and they KNOW they think it. It's the thoughts that everybody thinks, at least inside, if not outwardly. I just possess the ability to not give a shit whether people read my shit or not. I just want to put it out there. I want people to realize that this world is fucked up, fucked over, and we should not be bending to the laws that some arbitrary person fucking made up. Things like this make my blood boil, and oh, how I want to just scream at the top of my fucking lungs that this is all wrong. But I don't. I play nice with the other children. I always have, but perhaps I won't always. I wish I could express these feelings without totally fucking my life over.

Wait...I could just do whatever the fuck I want! I'm going to hell anyway! You are too! We can all fucking go together. I have a secret...THIS IS HELL! We live in hell, and this whole world is hell. Haha. I just ONLY WISH I could tell everyone how I feel! HAHAHAAH!!! AM I THE ONLY FUCKING ONE WHO'S NORMAL ANYMORE? And what the fuck is normal....? We may never know.

My favorite quote to explain my insanity: "Damn! How much damage can you do with a pen. Man, I'm just as fucked up as you would have been, if you would have been in my shoes, but who would have thought...?"

"Because I only like playing with words, only dreaming, but, do you know, what I really want is that you should all go to hell."

I guess in some way there is irony here. Irony from the fact that in the last blog before the one yesterday, I said I was alone. And here I am. All alone in my head. Once again searching for words that don't exist. But even more so, I am actually not angry anymore. Writing is an emotional release, especially when it's like screaming in a large crowd of people in the library. There's bound to be some offensive things said. But then there's me: hypocritical for both saying "fuck the world, I hate everyone" and getting mad when someone is mean to me. And I suppose that is just the way life goes. You win some, but you lose most. I feel fine today, actually, which once again surprises me. The anger has yet to subside though. Just the anger that it was for someone else. I could have handled this better if you hadn't told me that, but you did and I'm mad. And I just wasted a year and a half of my life on things that don't really matter. I'm really not one to hold judges, at least not until this year. But as isaid it before and as I'll say it again: I'm a bitch. I really have little conern for other people's feelings. My intentions were for others to feel like I felt. My job might be done then. I guess no of this really matters in the long run. But if so, then what really does? And all you motherfuckers saying it's not her fault, you and I both know you wouldn't be saying that, if you were me. And I am you and you are me because together we're just stupid human beings trapped on this godforsaken place.

Because if he didn't I wouldn't have to deal with the unlucky shit I do.

I just wrote a very long facebook note about how I think you are a FUCKING ASSHOLE. Facebook decided to delete it on me before I could publish it. I guess it wasn't meant to be. I'm such an "immature" person, right? I know I shouldn't write these mean things. But you made me feel like shit, so I can only return the favor in my favorite passive agressive way.

Well since I am much less angry after writing the note now lost in cyberspace, I felt that I only had a few things to write.

1) FUCK YOU. GO FUCK JENNY PECK. I know that's all you wanted from me.
2) I hope you cry more often, you fucking cry baby. You are a fucking woman.
3) How could you think that I would be okay after letting my guard down and you preceding to slap me in the goddamn fucking face?
4) FUCK YOU for ruining my entire day.
5) FUCK YOU for every mean thing you have said to me.
6) FUCK YOU for throwing me onto the floor, you abusive, controlling person.

I just wanted it noted that you specifically said when I asked you about all those fucking text messages that [and I quote] "Jenny Peck has fucking thunder thighs, I could never like her" and "it's like everytime I see Jenny she gets larger."
You said it, not me. And now the internet world knows. As if that's anybody. I hope that she knows that. I hope she sees what a fucking jerk you are.

Thank you for ruining my day when I baked you a fucking cookie cake with your FUCKING name on it.
Thank you for coming to my research poster day and pretending to give a shit when I won the award for it.
Thank you for FUCKING with my life.
Thank you for fucking me over.

I just want to say that I know you didn't want a friendship, when you said you did. And you must have been referring to me when you said you lost a friend because I think you found a new fuck buddy. Why don't you go to FUCKING hell and stay there for a while. I know you won't even read this so why am I wasting my fucking time. Because this is just another way in which you waste my time.

You wasted my time, all the times I talked to you.
You wasted my time everytime I hung out with you.

I know this is what you wanted. Me to get mad at you, and to act like a bitch so that you could go the FUCK out with Jenny Peck. Great. GO FUCKING WITH HER, YOU FUCKING SHIT FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY SHOES. Guess what? I am a huge fucking bitch and everybody already knows it. I don't give a shit anymore. You lied to me. Repeatedly. I don't have any respect for you any more.

I don't like your FUCKING Mars Volta. I think they're fucking stupid as hell. I don't FUCKING LIKE IT WHEN YOU TELL ME THAT LISTENING TO EMINEM IS SHITTY MUSIC. I don't fucking like it when you act like you cared, when you didn't. I don't fucking give a shit about you anymore.

I'm not happy for you going to Italy. I hope you die on your plane ride there. I'm not fucking happy about anything for you, ever. GO FUCK YOURSELF. Or BETTER YET, FUCK JENNY.
I guess I couldn't help it but rewrite part of the note. Once I got into it, the love just wouldn't fucking STOP.