November 11th, 2013

2013, cyd, new

i hate him i hate him i hate him

he has been nothing but a curse on this house and i don't care if he fucking knows it. it won't matter to him, he has no personal responsibility. he's an ignorant fuck. and a disease. i hate him. i don't want him over here anymore. i put up with it the other night because i wanted something. i don't want it anymore and i'm back to stabby mode. he pushed that bitch on us and her bugs when he knew she had them. he can't just be miserable with his own pathetic life, he has to infect everyone he meets with misery.

the only way he would do us the favor the other night is if he thought we were just as miserable as he and J. he came over here feeling sorry for me. I DON'T NEED HIS FUCKING PITY. the only thing wrong with my life right now is something that he caused. and he just laughs about it. fucker. i hope he is miserable and i can't wait until he has to pay for his DUIs and gets thrown in jail. out of sisterhood, i wouldn't want to wish that on J, but she stays with him, mea culpa. fuck them both.

and this stretches over into doc. right now i'm just as furious with him, but for other reasons. he put something in the alcohol that i was spraying the house down with and i'm having a massive asthma attack from it. and it bleached out my mattress. i could fucking kill him right now. why does he have to fuck with everything? and he left the meat wrapper in the garbage, which is a no-no. this morning i got up to a huge mess made by Leia and the dog, who now have untold amounts of cotton in their stomachs waiting to block their intestines.

why can't everyone just leave me alone? why do people have to want something from me? why do i have to give it to them? the only person i owe anything to is doc.

i've been having horrific dreams about my past. stuff i thought was long forgotten is coming up with such fierceness, i can't put it down.

i woke up to a bug on my shoulder this morning at 4, i've never been so happy to see a spider on me. i killed it anyway. it was invading my space.

maybe some music will make me feel better and calm down. there is nothing i can do with my rage except sit here, impotent.

and B will read the first two lines of this and laugh because schatenfreud (i know i butchered that one), and he will have no idea i am talking about him. it won't even occur to him that he is the subject of my rage, because he is responsible for nothing. everything is everyone else's fault. a 14 year old boy with no empathy, a persecution complex and a superiority issue.

some people don't deserve the air they breathe.

some day i'm going to snap. don't anyone say it came as a surprise when they find the disappeared in my basement, dismembered. i have a list. and someday i may have the means. i will rain down terror on everyone who ever hurt me. and that is going to take a long long time.
2013, cyd, new

a title goes here: how about i'm over twitter

i awoke last night to two messages on my facebook page. the first said something like, i saw your picture and thought you were pretty, etc.. three minutes later i got another message from the same person calling me an "ugly ass bitch". in my rage today, i responded to him with "what's your fucking problem, douchebag?". he messaged me back, apologizing. okay. people are fucking weird.

also in my rage today, i posted on bitchface's wall, "i just wanted to thank you for the bedbugs, you lying cunt." which upset doc. but i don't really care. she called me today. i didn't answer and she didn't leave a message. stupid bitch.

and yes, i feel better after this juvenile outbusrt. but i still took a lot of it out on doc. turns out i wasn't happy with him painting me as the victim the other night. it has been building up and festering and it finally came out in a burst today and he just laughed, he was so relieved i had finally said it and stopped holding it in. he held me and reassured me and we made up.

i just smoked the rest of my weed for the day. i should have split it up, but i wasn't unhappy with a buzz, i wanted to be properly high. so i got properly high. now i just want to go to sleep, but i am obligated to stay up and enjoy the high. i just don't know what i want to do. eat? no. not feeling it. write? not really. read? boring. see, sleep is all that's left.

i suppose i could make myself some coffee and chainsmoke like a frenchman. i'm such an asshole.

the boys are coming home for thanksgiving. so the family is reconnecting with doc. he got a couple of calls today. got caught up on the boy gossip. or, should i say, man gossip. i, in turn, got caught up on all the gossip. children have been had, people have gone to jail . . . the usual. others have dropped out of sight. R falls into that last category. we'll see him at a gig on the 16th, but expect no word until then.

Leia had her spaying surgery. her belly is all shaved. seems to me they went overboard on the shaving. she was all dopey and unsure on her feet last night. i spent most of the night holding her. i discovered she is a stoner cat. i don't hotbox my animals, i smoke like normal and if they want to get into the smoke, that's on them. i don't hold them or force it on them and none of them like it. so they don't get stoned. Leia on the other hand, was pulling the smoke out of my mouth. putting her mouth up to mine and opening her mouth and inhaling. it was the weirdest thing. i'm not going to let her make a habit out of it. they didn't give me any pain meds for her, so i figured a buzz would help her. but she's doing fine and sober now.

they trimmed her nails, but they would have had to. she was not at all happy about going back to that place. and i'm sure the scooter ride didn't help. don't judge, he drives slow, with her in a carrier, tied down, between his legs so he can keep an eye on things and he goes really slowly. it's the only legal way we have of getting around. this in no way means i endorse or condone B's taking of his four year old son out on the road on his scooter. if that makes me a hypocrite . . . so be it.