Voce Del Alma

Well, I have priced computers but uncertain if I should purchase one or not. I will eventually just not sure if I should rush it or not. My phone, obviously, works well enough for most Internet items. I have an Lj program on my mobile making this easier alomg with the full keyboard and trackwheel.

I do not know what is up with work just that the leave was denied. Today seemed to go alright. I am mostly keeping to my pill schedule but the trazadone makes waking rough but the uncontrollable giggling is fun for 30-45 minutes before passing into a semi coma state for 12 hours.

My thoughts are racing. I am afraid of the days to come and the world will not hold still. I think it is going to spin off and crash.

I feel cut off from nearly everyone and even sought companionship amongst the other terminally messed up, like me but I am no more than another screaming voice in a typhoon of specters. I have fallen into SI behaviors again. It felt good, nice, calming, and transfixing. I write this knowing it is unlikely anyone will read this. LJ friends from long ago have wandered off to other mediums and muses.

So I am alone again inthis sea. My job is slipping between my fingers die to my errors and my trusting in others. Next time, I call after I have swallowed the pills.

I am so tired. It's late.

She took off her shoes enjoying the feel of ground instead constricting leather crew wear. She walked over towards the glass door to wounded and creaking balcony. Lightly and with longing she placed her fingers on the thin, see through material seperating herself from the world.

"Pretty, pretty on the looking glass, but no one to say whose the fairest of them all," a girl's rasped whisper prickled into her ear.

Angela's gray eyes moved to her left gazing into the empty, dark eyes of the whisper's reflection. She locked gaze with her for a moment before withdrawing from the glass uttering simply, "Not tonight Anise."

Finally she reached home or the facsimile thereof to be more precise. The air was cold due to the heater that only kicked in at 55, but it was still warm enough to keep out the worst the cold. The chill in the darkened apartment for some reason granted angela peace, because as long as her body ached from the cold she was undeniably real and alive despite the world's efforts to pretend otherwise. There was no tv to turn on or a computer to distract her, only the others within, just as obscured.

A flutter of shadow and the sound of wings drifted in from the balcony. Carefull

Angela walked down the street in silence with everything about her posture from her slouched shoulders to her hands shoved deep in her pockets indicating her best efforts to escape and become what the world of her, nothing. It is not that she lacked talent, but simply that once she turned eighteen she ceased to matter and would not for at least forty years. In the eyes of society she was unpitiable and therefore not worth the effort anymore. The reason she fell into this category was because.she was not old, a child, hopeful teen or procreated. She was merely poor.single and not foolish enough to believe a child being shot from her loins would make all her worries go away.

She paused as sound intruded upon her imaginary walk on the beach instead of the disjointed and broken sidewalk. She drew up her hands to protect her ears as an ambulance rushed past spraying her clothes with water along curb, dark gunk clung to her legs as evidence no amount of rain could wash the world clean of its sins, least of all her own that led her to this path. She lowered her hands and despite the exhausted ache fromher standing shift she trudged on to her apartment.

Powerful quote I've found this morning:

"When they came for the gypsies, I did not speak, for I am not a gypsy. When they came for the Jews, I did not speak, because I wasn't a Jew. When they came for the Catholics, I did not speak, for I am not a Catholic. And when they came for me, there was no one left to speak."

We often like to sit back, cross ourselves for fear but say nothing. We generate what we say. Nothing is always a something, if it is only itself. Saying nothing will generate nothing. Change cannot happen when we choose to say nothing about an issue. We are ready to march to the capital in defense of the Unborn Child, to demand Gay Rights, to scream to high heaven and Moses on the mountaintop about the injustices caused by racial prejudice, but that is as long as those people we are demanding equality for are nameless. If it is our neighbor? We look away. We cross ourselves and say, "God, grant them serenity and the help they need." We shake our heads. We go to bed to a restless night of sleep, but in the end outside of a prayer we have failed to love our neighbor. Our silence allows a suffering to continue, because this time its next door. We can get involved with the nameless, but not with those that have faces, and might need us to be more than march, hold signs, and sing a song of peace.

Bob Marley was shot by someone trying to stop him from injecting love into the world. Two days late he walked out onto a stage and played claiming that those seeking to bring darkness were not taking a day off, therefore he could not either. But most of us, can't even manage the courage to face the people next door. Heaven forbid.

I don't know my neighbors. I don't see my neighbors, not even through the open windows. I look, but I see no one. Occassionally, I'll pass someone that quickly averts my gaze for fear that they might have to dare make a connection, expand their world and get involved in someone else's problems.

Heaven forbid. Imagine the horrible place this world would be if we did more than casual glances and paranoid 'hello's' before slipping back inside with only a half-felt prayer to guide.

The truth is that I quit my job without guarantee that I was getting another. Now, I'm in a situation scrambling for a job, because I need to have a paycheck coming in again and quickly. I really don't have much time to mess around with this. The truth is if I had been more watchful of my finances as I had intended to become, this wouldn't be as big of a deal at the moment. I screw up and I hide. The thing that sent me off on this tonight was reading a story. It blasted a truth I try to ignore, and have for most of my moments.

I left her to die. I was too much of a coward to kill her; so, I left her behind. I gave myself a list of reasons as to why it was better, each a lie in reality. I didn't want to watch her die and couldn't end her suffering. There are other things I know, the lie I say about how she died, because it's what I want to believe. The week before I found her, I visited my uncle's home. She went into my bedroom. He shut the door. I was worried he'd forget. I even called later to ask if he had let her back out. I don't believe he ever did. I believe she didn't die of old age. She didn't die from the tumor but from the pain of dehydration, alone in a cold room. And I was the one that left her there because I couldn't face her impending death.

I remember two weeks prior to it all happening in that week as it did, thinking I'd give anything for my clean slate. Even what I loved. I quickly scolded myself, but there it was already out in the universe. The price was paid and in the guilt that came I squandered it again.

A friend once told me that you have to lose everything to truly be free.

I've lost everything, some things twice and some found again. Others, are gone forever. I can sit and say, "This is life. This is how it goes. Some days you get something. Other days you lose something. It's a constant give and take." Only, I don't know what I'm getting. I've gained two beautiful, loving cats that I would gouge out the eyes of anyone that hurt them. I worry about them so much and that I'm going to be the cause of their demise that sometimes, I wake up in a panic thinking they've never been real at all. It's all been a hallucination. I accidently killed them in a rage, and somewhere in my apartment lie their rotting corpses, dead by my hand. I can even see the maggots crawling over their bodies. Of course, I immediately search the apartment till I find them both and reassure myself they're here and real. But sometimes, I don't believe it.

Has joy and love become so vacant from my life that the only reason my mind can excuse them as existing is if it is in some damn passing phantom floating by on a witch's yowl towards her deities?

For all these dark thoughts that flicker through my mind, do I in turn create this Hellish existance as a means to punish myself, believing as I did as a small child, no punishment given to me would be sufficient, but restrained as it would always be given by those that at least professed love for me. The devil doesn't hold back, as he doesn't love his victims, just their howls. Have I become my own devil but forgot the music and the bluedress to at least get the fun out of the ride in my woven basket?

The real question: Is there any light left in this soul?

Anyone call me hard headed? They're right. So, I don't stop eating the cheap foods involving yest when I discover it's triggering an auto-immune disorder. So, next round..I get a food allergy..chocolate. I can no longer eat chocolate. Talk about taking a girl's pride. No sugar. No wheat. No chocolate. Oi.

You are who you pretend to be; so you better pretend to be something you can live with.

I put in my notice tonight. I don't care if I get another job or not. Julie's going to be pissed off and will claim I only gave a 12 instead of 14 like she did with Holly. But fuck it, man, I'm done. After listening to her go on and on about how fucking useless I was tonight, and that Val is her golden child let her put her golden child out there then. The only manager that doesn't have to run a shift by herself. I'm getting my old job back at Edco. Fuck this shit man, I'll take 20 year old hospital dust over the smell of her "Pity Me" routine one more time. 1 day down. 13 to go.

Ever since I moved out I never really felt like I had escaped my Uncle's house. The lady downstairs had enough animals her place made mine smell like his place. Now, I've moved here and find out I'll probably have to go back there. I'm afraid. I know I am. I don't know exactly what of though. It's almost dreamy, in a way, to have such a big project and know that I can get it in shape. I can imagine myself as my own little Cinderella cleaning away on the house, reorganizing it, getting it to look like a house. The little fix it up projects I could do, like the door and the bathroom. It wouldn't be too bad, since one day in twenty years it'll probably be mine. If not sooner. It wouldn't be all bad, just the huge swallowing of my pride and going back in there. Maybe I was never meant to leave in the first place. It's why I've had such a hard time getting my shit together as I've been fighting fate. My grandmother will probably be back there, I doubt we're all getting pulled back into the same place for sheer quirks. I don't know. I still haven't gotten the courage (swallowed enough of my own pride) to ask him about it yet. I think I haven't because I'm afraid he'll say, "no." If he does, then what?

I'm going to be an auntie! They're pregnant!

Truth is Stranger than Fiction

Apparently the city of Branson lost 32 dead cats after removing them from a home along with 26 live cats.

WTF? How do you lose thirty-two dead bodies? cats or not.

I'm in a quandry. It's weird to feel that I am opening a floodgates, even by remaining vague. It could just be an old feeling from the past, fear of it coming back all over again. Why have you contacted me? Why after nearly four years are you tapping the ley line? Part of me is enraged, yet that small part that lived back then and has somehow survived all efforts of expulsion wants to rush to your side again. I don't even know if you intentionally tapped it or just some random dream. What do you need from? And why now?

I place this here as it seems the safer option, than your LJ or your ET's. I don't know why. I just know it does. All options feel of danger. Dare I ask what you're walking into now, Black Knight? If you need a reader, I gave that up years ago and will not pick it back up, even for you.

I admit I remember little of this year other than most of it has really sucked, but I survived. I think this year I've done a lot of learning to just accept things. It's hard to learn that it's okay to let go. Holding onto something futile does little to help happiness or even contentment but does a fair amount of hindrance. In the end, that's also the real reason I've given up MU*ing for the moment. I fear that it could be a sign of cutting myself off, but in the end it's just a futile attempt to get enjoyment out of something that only rarely works. Yes, it's time to change jobs and move on with life. I've fulfilled my promise, I stayed through Christmas. It's going to be alright to let it go. I'm thirty years old. It's time to start moving or start finding a hole to just lay down and die in, and I'm too ornary to just die.

I don't know. I can logic away my decision to quit MU*ing. I can, but at the end of the day I think it's another effort to continue my efforts at a complete disconnect. It has always been that one thing to connect me with other people. Part of me wants to try and play a character, somewhere, but there's also nowhere left to play that's worth the effort. I'm sick of trying to break into cliques on metro or feeling like I /have/ to create a supernatural character to even find something fun to do. Back in the day, I used to believe that all one had to do on a game was to put in effort to following down plot lines and be out in public a /lot/ to make connections with others that could lead to something more. It's lies. It works if you're a supernatural character, but as a mortal staff don't give two shits. They offer nothing out and what is offered out you're never certain if it's a plot or not. Mortal staff on metro are confused that a social function is a /plot./ It's a scene, jackasses. Mage, the only sphere I have a remote interest in via Sorcerer, is ran by Escalus. A fucking whack job. I've heard of more order and stability in a kindergarten class full of kids with ADHD with Charles Manson as the head teacher and Dahmer as an aid. If I wanted more abuse, I'd move all of my family into one household and try to referee. Pandulph is a pussy that can't be bothered with more than defending his frequently absent wife. Werewolf holds basically no appeal for me right now. I don't want to play with the Sabbat or deal with the sabbat or I'd try vamp. Demon is a waste of space. Fuck Anything-of-the-East. Changeling, from what I hear, is not worth the effort right now either.

I'm burned and tired of being burned. I'm sick of the, "Oh, let's scene later. Catch me next you're on." to get blasted with, "Oh, well, sure, I can for a bit." Soon followed up with, "So, what are you playing? Yeah, mortal are cool. Hey, I hate to do this, but I'll catch you later as I really need to do this scene with X-super friend." Maybe that's what I need to do is, "Oh, no she's a mage. Really. It's why her aura is the same as the other mages, but she just hasn't made her way into the Chantry yet to make her intros. Blah, blah, some lie. " Next time asked she's suddenly a vampire. Keep them fucking guessing. Fuck them. They want to blow me off. Fuck them.

I guess I'm feeling shut out so completely, I don't want to try. Anywhere. At all. Maybe I just really suck at this whole writing and RP thing and no one wants to be the bad guy to tell me. Fun things that helped lead up to this on the game.

Public: Dougal says, "So whats going on?"
Public: Nieve says, "Nothing much. Just hanging out."
Public: Dougal says, "I was talking to the people all gathered in one place."

The guy is annoying to the point when he shows up in a scene I'm in simply ignores my character or makes OOC comments to indicate he wants my character to leave, but in a passive-aggressive way. So, add his little friends to that and it builds. I'm just burnt out on things like that. Oh, noes there's a mortal in the room. Quick, someone make it go away! I'm done. Just feels like I'm deepening my own depression and cutting off another link to the rest of the world.

Today was not an overly rough day, in all honesty it came off as a rather normal affair. Tragedy in someone's life, exalatation in another, with cow branded blot of certifiable chaos wrapped up inside of a giggle going at work today. I watched the Director's Cut of the Butterfly Effect, at last, and have decided it is an excellent promotion for suicide. After all, the guy discovers that really the best thing for everyone he loved would be if he had never been born, commont thought of suicidal individuals. Excluding the religious zealouts that are seeking to meet that great Cosmic Spaceship on their way out. I guess physical bodies get in the way in space or something. Something to ponder later.
At the time I was desperately searching for my inhaler to get out the door for work, chaos slammed into Joy at work. At about the same time that the shit really went wild is the time that my inhaler popped into view after about twenty minutes of hard searching. That little mundane appearance got me out the door and then good traffic got me there a few minutes early. I don't think Joy's ever been so happy to see me in our entire time working together as she was tonight, and I believe that it happened because she got someone else there, not the best or the greatest but a warm body at the very least.

At my arrival I hear noise going on inside the door and realized after I answered them that it was Jennifer going off on someone. From the other side of the door I heard Jessie say it was me at the door; thusly, I said, "Yeah, it's me" in a not so pleasant tone, not in the mood for their antics as I can see the gathering of people waiting for food. A lady with a gray plaid baby carriage and a hand on her right hip with receipt in the other. While waiting for a response I realize that it was Jenniffer yelling and someone was yelling back. I heard some noises like boxes being moved around, or so I thought. My immediate thought was, "Oh, God, she's doing it again. Well, let's get in there." The door opens and Jessie is on her way out yelling at her sister calling her a stupid bitch. Jenny was letting her go, but then turned around. Jessie nearly slammed the door as I held my hands up around my head just to squeeze by and not get hit. Jessie yelled, "What the fuck ever bitch. I hope you fucking die." Jenny's screaming, "Well, go on then. Go on and leave. You're ...... fucking ..... " Jessie walked off and Jenny continued. I cracked a bit of a smirk as I walked in and said, "I don't think she heard you. She's already been gone since her last statement." I noticed that there weren't any boxes; I guess, they were shoving each other around near the door. Joy's board had gone completely red, save for the newest orders. I told her I'd help her as soon as I swallowed my pill. As I'm putting gloves on Jenny said to Joy, "You might as well go and get two termination papers made out as I'm about to go out into the parking lot and beat her ass." At that point she left with her stuff. I didn't bother asking as Joy was too frazzled and lost. I told her what she needed and together with the grace of God we cleared the board and began getting it all caught up. Almost an hour later we were at a point to find out what caused it.

Earlier in the morning Joy had put extra change into both drawers to keep from having to go up there in the middle of lunch rush to give them change, keeping everyone focused on their tasks and customers. Well, Julie during the count missed about a 100 dollars and of course, freaked out on Joy. She spent a fair amount of time counting and recounting and failed to find it. She came out and according to Joy said, "Well, girls because Joy wasted our time with the money you two haven't gotten a break yet and I'm going home." It was about 3:30 and Julie went on home, early while the other two stewed over the idea of not getting a break. Jenniffer took up on Joy's side saying Julie was out of line and Jessie took up on Julie's side. It escalated rapidly and change into who had which kid the most and child support, good mothering vs bad mothering. It was 3:55 when I clocked on and 3:51 when Jennifer clocked herself out. Joy did tell them, or at least Jenny, that as soon as I got in they would be going home. Jessie came in at a 11 and Jenny at noon. Jessie said she was never coming back again, threw down her keys, hat and name tag. Of course, Jenny seems to be quitting as well; they are the other half of the management crew. And Joy is stuck in the middle of it all trying to keep the line moving and food going out. There's still much to figure out, but it can wait till tomorrow night. In the morning we're going to church.

We spent the time after work at Steak -n- Shake just to chill and relax. Even hours later Joy's mind was still fluttering. She couldn't remember taking out orders, what she made or figure out how a pair of keys ended up in the desk. All of it will get sorted out in the next few days. For now, it's been survived for another day. It'll be okay as we're never really alone and not all miracles are obvious. Sometimes it's just that one thing you need right then.

So, here I am a month later with another bitch about my boss. She utilized my payroll information (SSN and DoB) to gain access to my medical records due to my recent absence of two days because of my foot. Which, by the way, the injury would not have been so severe if I had not waited till the end of school shopping. I chose to wait to ensure people at work would not be overstressed with my absence and now I get her violating my privacy and trust. The fact is that I would have granted her access to all the information pertaining to my injury if she had actually just asked me for it. She's accusing me of using it to gain attention. I guess she thinks hospitals just hand out crutches and that I can fake an x-ray too. She's also cut my hours down to thirteen a week. That's 78 dollars a week equaling 312 dollars a month, not even enough to cover my rent. I can't keep doing this. I can't. I don't have the strength for this anymore. I'm tired of the insecurity caused by a single person being as big of a bitch as she can manage. Yet, I'm not sure this any escape at all from this. There has to be one somewhere. I want to feel secure and safe again. It's all I've ever really wanted.

What am I fighting for again?