You. All of You.

Here we go again.

I met up with an old friend tonight. Strange chance and odd fate led to us both to being in the same place after a bunch of years. I think I saw her last in highschool. It's funny to hear about what people my age are doing with their lives. All the exciting things. The living that goes on. It is interesting what other people who aren't me or like me do with their lives. Different worlds.

I have good stories from the past four years of my life. I went across the country for art school, did stuff, yadda yadda. But it's the present day that's hard to talk about. I seriously have to hold back my defenses. I feel like any inquiry is an attack. I'm wounded from previous attacks that I don't trust innocent questions in conversation. ugh.

So, what is up with me anyway?

I've come to realize that people hold a certain expectation for other people based on their own standards for themselves. I.E. If I am working to fullfill goals and dreams in my life there is no reason why I shouldn't assume you are doing the same. Because what else could you be doing?? These standards that are assumed by the people we know and live with are only called into question when an extreme is reached. Such as an emotional breakdown, violence, threats, total lack of self control, etc. These are warning signs that someone you know isn't holding your standards for 'normalcy'. And with this information you can get them help, and/or remove them from your pretty picture of your happy-happy-joy-joy life.

Ok, your life isn't happy-happy-joy-joy, but because of these previously set rules on how people act and judge, you are inclined to keep on going as if you were the H.H.J.J. type. Such is my position. I'm so frickin H.H.J.J. I ooze a kind of madness that some people mistake for humor. That's okay, they have their little standards, and there's nothing unusual about me that qualifies me for the loony bin. Even though I do qualify. I'm a great H.H.J.J. faker. HAHA. take that fools. It's fun to lie to yourself too.

What the fuck...

I've decided that I need some talk therapy. With someone who is paid to listen to me gripe, and has learned cool little tricks and theories as to why I act and feel and think the way I do. I need someone to help me mold myself back into a clone of society. Mind numbing drugs are the usual answers to anxiety, depression and stress disorders, but I really don't want to walk around in a strange fog feeling like I'm living in slow motion. I've seen it work in people I know who have really been a little too close to the deep end. But if you look into their eyes while their all pumped with happy pills you have to feel sorry for their souls. There was someone inside there once, and now there's is just a monkey doing the motions. ooga booga.

So why do I need talk therapy to conform to the clones of society? Why not just take the drugs to easily end my miserable awareness? Maybe there's hope of preserving my 'self' but also having the likemindedness of strangers and their goals and dreams and standards. Still why would I want this? To get all you fuckers off my back. Duh I can't leech off the parent's forever. Duh I have to pay bills. The picture is so full of all thes garbage we call the facts of life. The cold hard reality. The REAL WORLD. God I hate it all. erakjhgalkughlaekrhgl

old junk ...new junk