The cup...she is half CRAZY.
.A friend once passed along some words of wisdom that were given to her, she said, "Let the glass be empty so that it may be filled." A wise woman she is. However, to truly understand these words, one must be in a position of not doing anything with oneself to the point of trying to do something very hard and failing miserably. See, one cannot force inspiration. One cannot force literary genius or musical virtuosity or the like. One cannot force greatness unto themselves. Sure, one can work towards a goal! But unless that work is driven by something other than just reaching said goal, nothing will come to fruition.
I have been sitting idle for a long time. Long before high school graduation. Long before even high school. Little did I know that I've been sitting with my cup empty, waiting to be filled with something other than apathy, depression, and the ilk. Little did I also know that for the past few years, my glass has been turned upside down. Anything that might have been in there,trapped. Anything that might have wanted to replace that emptiness, rejected and spilled all over the table the glass sits on. My life was a seemingly empty glass closed away from the pitcher of life's grand scheme. Until the twisted plot line of my existence threw some rising actions in my face.
Meeting certain people, leaving the safety of the high school, entering the realm of blue collared business, etc. took that glass of mine and smashed it against the table. And then the contents of the pitcher spill forth onto the debris and the deluge of glass and liquid spreads across the table in a slightly dangerous mess. Not even tempted to clean it up, I left it there for seven months.
And then, after that time of just watching my life sitting shattered in a puddle of strange life fluids, I was given another chance and another glass.
So it came to be that someone had rescued me from my hell. I had been living in a closet, in more than one sense, working a dead end grave yard shift in a place no person should ever have to work, living with my father and the loud mouth of a woman he calls a girl friend, just wallowing in self pity and loathing, when my aunt offers me a way out. Felt like the right thing to do. She offered me a place to stay, she offered me help with school, she offered me a new existence, another side of the fence I hadn't seen before that turned out to be greener than the desolate dust bowl I was leaving behind. I moved in and shortly went out and found a job. I was employed at a place I actually enjoyed. I was allowed to see more of my friends and live more of a life than when I was under the slight tyranny of my father and that woman of his. My glass was looking more and more full as time went on.
Except, it also seemed very empty at the same time...
Even before the shattering of my first glass, there was always something wrong. Like I was never meant to have a glass filled and over flowing with a positive energy. I mean, since I was little until now, so much has happened to me that has had me looking at other people at the table and their glasses and wondering what they've got to complain about. Alot of people never seem satisfied with their wonderfully full glasses, they always want more... I would've been more than happy with half of what others had in there glasses. I've grown up with so much adversity from so many different direction, it's amazing I have a glass at all. My parents divorced when I was little and it was an incredibly nasty fight. I grew up around a fairly dysfunctional family, I never got along with my brother. I was always picked on and bullied in school and what not. I was never great at much until I discovered fractal art just recently... The point is, I've been around alot of emptiness and sadness and all that wonderful stuff.
Ok, so, I don't think I can keep writing like that.
My life has so many ups and downs, mostly downs it seems, that I just don't know what to do with myself.
It seems like every time something comes along to give me the smallest bit of happiness, several things of a greater negative magnitude come along and completely trample what ever I was feeling.
I'm tired of everything being in the shitter all the damned time. I can only pick myself up and dust myself off after falling into a pit so many times.
I mean, every morning, it's quite literally the same shit, a different day, a bigger pile, smaller shovel, alot more flies. Sometimes, the shit has a different smell, but it's still the same shit from the day before.
I'm also wicked tired of being under appreciated and taken for granted and thought of as lazy or stupid. I'm tired of being ridiculed for any little thing I do and having to live up to such ridiculous expectations and being belittled and GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!
I just want to scream and cry and let so much shit out.
I feel like I'm just being eaten away by so many different things and I can't take it but I don't know what to do.
Life's more than a fucking glass. It's too much of a fucking puzzle and I hate it. I hate it so much.
I don't understand why the complexity of just being.
And you know what else gets me? When people talk about the small issues plaguing their lives and they down play my issues like they're nothing what so ever. Yeah, fuck that shit. My issues are sometimes bigger than yours, and because of that I DO understand your little shit things. Trust me, my hit by a car sized problems can provide me with an understanding of the pain you get from your stubbed your toe on the coffee table sized problems.
(now don't take anything personally, it might not even have anything to do with you)
I don't know what the fuck to do about anything anymore.
I just wanna be done.
That's not happening any time soon, unfortunately.
I have a feeling I'm gunna die on april fool's day some year.
It'll be hilarious.
I have been sitting idle for a long time. Long before high school graduation. Long before even high school. Little did I know that I've been sitting with my cup empty, waiting to be filled with something other than apathy, depression, and the ilk. Little did I also know that for the past few years, my glass has been turned upside down. Anything that might have been in there,trapped. Anything that might have wanted to replace that emptiness, rejected and spilled all over the table the glass sits on. My life was a seemingly empty glass closed away from the pitcher of life's grand scheme. Until the twisted plot line of my existence threw some rising actions in my face.
Meeting certain people, leaving the safety of the high school, entering the realm of blue collared business, etc. took that glass of mine and smashed it against the table. And then the contents of the pitcher spill forth onto the debris and the deluge of glass and liquid spreads across the table in a slightly dangerous mess. Not even tempted to clean it up, I left it there for seven months.
And then, after that time of just watching my life sitting shattered in a puddle of strange life fluids, I was given another chance and another glass.
So it came to be that someone had rescued me from my hell. I had been living in a closet, in more than one sense, working a dead end grave yard shift in a place no person should ever have to work, living with my father and the loud mouth of a woman he calls a girl friend, just wallowing in self pity and loathing, when my aunt offers me a way out. Felt like the right thing to do. She offered me a place to stay, she offered me help with school, she offered me a new existence, another side of the fence I hadn't seen before that turned out to be greener than the desolate dust bowl I was leaving behind. I moved in and shortly went out and found a job. I was employed at a place I actually enjoyed. I was allowed to see more of my friends and live more of a life than when I was under the slight tyranny of my father and that woman of his. My glass was looking more and more full as time went on.
Except, it also seemed very empty at the same time...
Even before the shattering of my first glass, there was always something wrong. Like I was never meant to have a glass filled and over flowing with a positive energy. I mean, since I was little until now, so much has happened to me that has had me looking at other people at the table and their glasses and wondering what they've got to complain about. Alot of people never seem satisfied with their wonderfully full glasses, they always want more... I would've been more than happy with half of what others had in there glasses. I've grown up with so much adversity from so many different direction, it's amazing I have a glass at all. My parents divorced when I was little and it was an incredibly nasty fight. I grew up around a fairly dysfunctional family, I never got along with my brother. I was always picked on and bullied in school and what not. I was never great at much until I discovered fractal art just recently... The point is, I've been around alot of emptiness and sadness and all that wonderful stuff.
Ok, so, I don't think I can keep writing like that.
My life has so many ups and downs, mostly downs it seems, that I just don't know what to do with myself.
It seems like every time something comes along to give me the smallest bit of happiness, several things of a greater negative magnitude come along and completely trample what ever I was feeling.
I'm tired of everything being in the shitter all the damned time. I can only pick myself up and dust myself off after falling into a pit so many times.
I mean, every morning, it's quite literally the same shit, a different day, a bigger pile, smaller shovel, alot more flies. Sometimes, the shit has a different smell, but it's still the same shit from the day before.
I'm also wicked tired of being under appreciated and taken for granted and thought of as lazy or stupid. I'm tired of being ridiculed for any little thing I do and having to live up to such ridiculous expectations and being belittled and GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!
I just want to scream and cry and let so much shit out.
I feel like I'm just being eaten away by so many different things and I can't take it but I don't know what to do.
Life's more than a fucking glass. It's too much of a fucking puzzle and I hate it. I hate it so much.
I don't understand why the complexity of just being.
And you know what else gets me? When people talk about the small issues plaguing their lives and they down play my issues like they're nothing what so ever. Yeah, fuck that shit. My issues are sometimes bigger than yours, and because of that I DO understand your little shit things. Trust me, my hit by a car sized problems can provide me with an understanding of the pain you get from your stubbed your toe on the coffee table sized problems.
(now don't take anything personally, it might not even have anything to do with you)
I don't know what the fuck to do about anything anymore.
I just wanna be done.
That's not happening any time soon, unfortunately.
I have a feeling I'm gunna die on april fool's day some year.
It'll be hilarious.