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The Devil You Know: Inside the mind of BlisteredBlood

Wednesday Late Afternoon,
June 24th, 2015

You know something, folks? I think I had to come to grips with something that came to me in the form of an AA meeting I attended to last Thursday. Wasn't for me, but for my father and saw things in his eyes. And I realized that there was a lot of things wrong. I of course also saw that I had gone things the wrong way a lot of times. Of which, a portion of it was indeed justified due to the fact that he was an outright prick of misery, but you've heard me go about this so many times that it's basically become old hat by now.

I suppose now is the right time to say a few things that needs to be said to him, provided if he himself can also admit to the fact that he was also wrong about the things he did to us as a family unit.

I suppose the thing I want to do is to apologize to him for the things I said, the things I did or didn't do and hopefully, we can establish some form of relationship that was broken long ago.

But at the same time, I also know that there's probably going to be a lot of trepidation on my part, since I know the animal that he was long ago. But the more that I just keep thinking about it and thinking about it, the more that I just keep on coming back to the same conclusion.

I need to bury this hatchet. No, it's more than a need. I absolutely have to end this. I have to do it, or otherwise this sort of thing is just going to keep on bothering me into my dying days. But at the same time, I also don't want to see my father laying there in a gurney looking as though he lost a scheduled 12-round match with Mike Tyson - before he became a baby eating, ear biting psychopath - in less than a minute all because he chose to get smashed the night before.

My point is this.

This has to happen. I have my doubts, but I know he'll get the picture once I word it the right way.

Something's gotta happen. I'm just not sure what.

In any case, I gotta scram for right now. I'll be seeing everyone later.
 
Noon,
June 27th, 2015

I suppose I might as well get to the point on this one.

Simply put, my mother's going in for a bronchoscopy at the tail end of June, which makes it... Yeah, about three days from now. Why? Well, lemme tell you.

According to her CT scans, they found several nodules in her right lung. The same one that more than 20 years ago, would see the middle lobe of that lung removed. Took about 110 staples and two stitches to close.

Afterwards, she then heads off to the a thoracic surgeon.

In the midst of all this, we again hear nothing from ma's lawyer or rather, she told us that while she hasn't been disapproved, she told her to call back Monday.

I think I made this clear that we don't have a whole lot of time left. The 12th of July is the day we have to leave and probably go look for another shelter.

But okay. I think I get it now. No, I do get it. I get the fact that maybe we're supposed to endure this trial. I get it. Okay. We get the fucking message, government. You can stop humiliating us now. Sadly, no. Nobody in my family wants to help us. Maybe we're bad people for not paying our fair share. Maybe we're supposed to be lambasted for the fact that we don't have jobs. Maybe we should be excommunicated for that fact that we don't believe in you as others have. Hell, how about I speak the sacred language of the retards like 1thwhofoqefhoqefaxcvhjifnlwgporpjnklk[p...

NOW CAN YOU STOP SHITTING ON US PLEASE AND THANK YOU?

Then again, maybe it's God still on the rag for not going to church. Or maybe Karma still has a major hard-on for us and just wants to stick it in a little bit deeper, PFFT! A little bit deeper, PFFT! A little bit fucking deeper, PFFT! PFFT! PFFT!

Frankly, I don't know anymore. I don't know and at this point, I do not fucking care one motherfucking iota.

Rant aside, it just seems that we've got the shit end of the stick one after another when it comes to our luck.

I honestly don't know what to feel about any of this, aside from a maddening desire to just go home as well as an intense fear of what's to come on the 30th of this month. And that's all that I want. I just want to get home as soon as I can and perhaps all of this will just be one fever dream that went horribly awry. I don't think that's too much to ask for, right? Nah.

I just can't put up with this. I can't. Everyday, I sit and I wait, I just sit on my hands, waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting...

You can see where this is going.

It gets right up your arse, kinda like your undershorts after you try to adjust yourself in the seat and then WHAM! you give yourself a combination of a Rear Admiral and a Melvin all in the same go. You know, with all of this waiting around. Gets kinda aggravating. Annoying. Frustrating. Angry. Bitter. Pissed off. Makes you wanna punch one asshole in the face all because he looked at you the wrong way.

I think that maybe I should just give up.

whiteflag.jpg


There. See that? See me waving my little white flag over here? Yeah? No? Maybe?

...I dunno. Maybe I'm just tired.
 
Monday Morning,
June 29th, 2015


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=axbUCR1nKRA


You know, I think I've resigned myself to the fact that I just cannot take my eyes off of my mother for more than five minutes without her turning into Calamity Jane.

About a couple of days ago at around 4:30 in the evening, I was laying down for a nap after working my ass off and shit when I caught a text from her asking to come down to the kitchen. The odd thing of it was when I got there, I didn't see her there. So I look around for a few, thinking maybe she's off somewhere else, and didn't really think much. But when I still didn't see her, I eventually turn to see one guy out on the backyard stoop with a pained look in his face. I go up to him, asking him, "Hey, do you know where my mom went to?"

He comes back with this. "Yeah dude, your mom's in the office. She fell in the basement and got pretty badly banged up."

At that moment, I flipped. BECAUSE NOBODY GOT IT IN THEIR FUCKING HEAD TO COME AND GET ME. So I then shook my head at the guy before I turned back around and stormed my way down to the office at a quick pace before I got in there. She was walking around a bit slowly at first, but I spotted two nasty looking cuts on her left forearm and shin. Immediately, I glare at her and ask her, "Hey what happened?!"

Turns out she was in the basement trying to get an armful of canned yams off a shelf when she took a header from one of them and got stunned for a moment. This led her to stagger back before she fell into a small hole that's about the size of a cat litter box, and got stuck there for a moment before she got someone to help her out of it.

We eventually got through the dinner service okay, but there were times I could see that she was having trouble breathing. On top of that, she mentioned to me that when she tried to turn her torso, she felt a click in her left side.

You know what that meant. A cracked/fractured rib.

It was about 7:30 before I eventually had enough of seeing her in pain like this, so I got up from the table we were all sitting at and headed for the office again and told the guy that was working there, "Yeah, she needs to get to the hospital."

And guess what? That's what it was. She's very lucky that she didn't have the whole shelf of stuff fall on her, broke her foot or... Potentially something worse.

Unfortunately, there's nothing they can really do for broken ribs other than maybe taping you up - I think they still do that nowadays like they did in the 1970's, but I could be mistaken - and then sending you on your way but not before they give you a pain shot. They wanted to give her that as she was coming out of the hospital, but because of the No Controlled Substances policy at the shelter (which Vicodin is), she couldn't.

So now, she's gotta put up with it.

SMH, man. SMFH.

It just seems like the inverse property of luck-not-have. Or Murphy's Law was in full effect on that particular day.

Alright. What else can go wrong now, huh? Any others you wanna throw at us, Karma? Because really, I could sure use another.

Sarcasm aside, it was just one of those days from hell. And personally, I've about had it.

Enjoy some Despicable Me from Pharrell Williams. I'm out for now.
 
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Monday Morning,
July 13th, 2015

I really wouldn't put it past anybody if you were wanting to know where I've been. But let's just cut to the chase and get it over with.

Simply put, this whole past week has been the kind of week that I wouldn't even wish on someone that I absolutely hated. I mean legitimately hated. The kind of hate where I would happily disembowel the bastard with a rusted, bent and partially broken handsaw.

Main thing is this. Remember when I mentioned that my mom broke a few ribs? Well, how adding pneumonia onto that list, as well. Thing was, when she had a CAT scan done over her lungs, it turned out that she had the infection way before that, so it was already apparent that there was undoubtedly going to be a major flareup of that shit. Whether you wanna call that divine intervention or blind luck is entirely up to you, friends.

Unfortunately, it did get pretty bad. At one point, my mother opted - rather emphatically - to be intubated. Now, I knew this was going to happen at some point or another. But on that day last week when I walked into the ICU unit of Miriam Hospital - that's where she is now - and saw her all hooked up to these tubes and shit, I gotta admit it. It was absolutely heartbreaking. But even then, I knew that I had to stick it out with her while the dedicated doctors and nurses and all the medical staff there at perhaps one of the premier hospitals in all of the United States helped her become well. It got intense at a few points where I saw one of the nurses take the tube out to clean it, but I honestly thought she was being a bit too rough with my mother. Perhaps you can call it me being excessively defensive, but at that point in time, wouldn't you react the same way if that was you in my shoes?

And I gotta admit it. The stress of her in the hospital, us still homeless and no one from the lawyers called her back to let her know that everything has been finalized and shit, so we can... You know. Rejoin society as a functioning member and whatever, right? Like... That's supposed to happen right about now, right? It's a thing still, I hope. But yeah, it got to me in perhaps the worst kind of way where I just wanted to just completely shut off and block everything and everyone out.

But no. Somehow, I was still able to hang in there for that week and tough it out. Personally, I don't know how I was able to do it but I guess my firm belief in my faith was what - I suppose - helped her pull through. She's doing a lot better now, but they're still keeping an eye on her Pulse-Ox since there have been times when she went off the O2 that it wanted to nosedive. My guess is that she's doing a lot better with it now. As a matter of fact, it got so stressful to me that at the end of the week, I knew I needed remediation. And what better way to do just that like taking the first bus on down to Point Judith down in Galilee, ending yet another drought of times I needed to get down there. Even if it was for a little while, anyway.

But to move away from the somberness of this post and maybe have a little bit of happy time and shit like that, a bit of an interesting thing happened - or nearly happened - to me last night. I was sitting out on the stairs with a friend of ma's and shooting the shit when the both of us was starting to hear cracks, pops and snaps coming from somewhere. At first, I thought that maybe there was like something up in the tree that was fucking around a bit too much, so I eventually come up with one of two ideas. One, I figured if I was just loud enough, I could probably scare it away. Two, I eventually threw a rock up towards the tree, seeing if that would knock it down or whatever.

Instead, a Final Destination-ish moment happened when a whole section of said tree broke the fuck off and hit the deck, causing me and that same woman to back off and nearly dive out of the way. The wreckage afterward was readily apparent. No damage to the house, fortunately, but there was chunks of branches and shit scattered all over the driveway. Thing was, had I been just a few inches to the place where it landed, there was a good chance I either would've gotten hit in the head, back or maybe had a hole in my lung. In which case, I'd be out of commission myself. Possibly permanently.

In any case, I suppose I'm outta shit to talk about for now. I'll talk to you guys again later on.
 
Wednesday Afternoon,
July 22nd, 2015

Another day, another dollar. Unfortunately, I don't have any dollars on me.

But you know something, there is something on my mind today. And it all comes down to the fact that I've been anticipating my mother to come home today having recovered after that wicked case of pneumonia only to have been told by her instead that she can't return until the doctors over at that rehab center gives her the OK. It's a liability thing, y'know?

What that means is that she may end up staying there for an undetermined amount of time. Meanwhile, I'm sitting here, basically on my own. Only, there's a problem. Our 90 days is coming up relatively quickly. Even if she were to show up from out of the blue and tap me on the shoulder right now while I'm here at the library, it wouldn't make much of a difference. The rules are the rules and unfortunately, they have to be abided by.

I suppose I'll be alright. Summer's only got another month left before it's out of here. Sure, there'll probably be a lot of heat, a lot of humidity, maybe even gouts of rain from time to time, but after having run up and down this goddamn state time and time again, I at least know where to go to at least settle down for a bit. My left foot feels like I strained it pretty badly, my left shin feels like it wants to pop out of place, but hey! It's not all bad! I swear!

It just means that I have to make yet another adjustment and just hold myself together for my own sake and for my mother's sake. Besides, I can't really afford another meltdown or just like fucking snap and attempt to imprint my fist deep into their face so hard that their nose resembles one of those types of noses you would see in most animu nowadays, negligibly small and a big ol' fist print in their face. Or worse, it could go right through their face a la Jacqui Briggs's Fatality called Fist Pump, seen here.


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XZs7uZgix6c


But enough about what I feel like doing to Nicki Minaj!


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gpaOy8b8X6A


Anyway, what happens to me after the 11th of next month falls upon me. And frankly, I have no idea of where to go. I know I gotta hole up somewhere.

Decisions, decisions.

Ehh. I suppose I might as well get going. You've heard enough, I've said enough.

Later.
 
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Monday Afternoon,
August 3rd, 2015

Funny that it's now August. That means there's four more months left until the start of another new year. And I honestly hope and pray to god that there's a better start to it than it is after everything that's happened in this year. I mean, you try having to deal with being entirely on your own while your mother is in the hospital for three weeks, only to be hold to go to a rehab center all because she got all noodle-limbed due to the fact that she was intubated for three and a half days while trying to recover from pneumonia and a few broken ribs. You'd probably end up folding like a house of cards, too. Or wanting to, anyway.

But yet, you keep soldiering on like that good little boy that you are, because you know if you do fold for whatever reason, then you are unqualified to even be within the same society as all the other fine, upstanding citizens. But yet, even as you try to do everything that you can, you find yourself caught in a whirlpool that's trying to pull you in. Think about it. Your own health concerns, your own mentality, your own limitations - regardless of what they are - but then, something happens. Just when you think that you've hit the wall and you've got nothing left, something reminds you that you need to keep going and push through that wall, or better yet, just slam your hands right the fuck through it and break that motherfucker right down like the Incredible Hulk. Just fuck off with those little things like limitations and push as hard as you can. Go on! Knock it down! Who cares?! No one's gonna do it for you! FUCKING GET IT OVER WITH YOU FUCKING PUSSY AND DO IT AGAIN TO THE NEXT ONE! Sure, it's a little bigger than the other one, but you can do it! Keep going!

...But therein lies a problem. Over time, the more that life throws all these challenges at you, the more that it takes out of you. In the end, you'll eventually wear yourself down to a bloody stump that needs to cauterized shut before it winds up squirting blood all over the place. It takes a long ass time for it all to come crashing down on you, but yet, you keep trying to baby what hurts a little while longer and try to pretend it's not a big deal, when you know full well for a fact that something went horribly wrong.

If you're a wrestling nerd, this might apply to you. If not or maybe you don't remember this happening, it might not, but stick around for a minute and maybe this might make some semblance of sense. Check this out.


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OKYYsg-jMfU


In his autobiography, Stone Cold Steve Austin equated that bad piledriver spot to something along the lines of a gong going off in his body, and every single nerve in his body felt like it was on fire. He's still dealing with the after effects of that neck injury even today, citing things like a sustained clonus reflex in his thighs where the muscles just jump entirely on their own for no apparent reason whatsoever. His spine was also pretty badly shot to hell, too. His knees? Come on, you've seen those big ass braces he had on, man! What do you think?!
 
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Tuesday Morning,
August 18th, 2015

Well. It's been about a month. But if there's one thing I can say is that where I am now is actually not so bad. I'm down here in Westerly at this other shelter and while it's a lot more relaxed than where I was originally, the distance is a lot more than what I had anticipated. I mean, look at a map of this state, people. You'd see that for such a small state, there's actually quite a lot of area here. Think about that for a minute. It's about 50 miles from here to Providence, which is only possible for me to get there if I get up with the chickens and hustle on down to the train station. After that, I'm basically stuck out there until the next round of buses show up in Kennedy Plaza at around 4:00 to about 5:30 in the evening, and I have to get that bus back or otherwise... Well, you figure that out.

Of course, it wasn't met without its opposition.

When my mother found out about this, she wasn't the least bit happy with it. As a matter of fact, she and I got into an argument about it, especially when she got a "better idea" of wanting to go sleep at Burnside Park once she got out of this rehab place she's at out in Central Falls.

I don't know if any of you have checked your calendars as of recently, people, but for FUCK'S SAKE. It's August, last I checked and according to the temps I've been seeing, it's getting vicious out there. Plus if you also tack on the humidity, it's fucking horrendous. On top of that, there's a curfew that you can only be at Burnside Park for and if you're still there by the time those cops tell you to get out of there, you'll end up in jail for trespassing or worse, if there's someone there that's... mmmmmmmmmmmmmMORE THAN HAPPY... There's a good chance you could wind up getting hurt, killed, or suffer heatstroke or heat exhaustion. Now is that a chance you wanna take?! IS IT?!!

No? Good. Now don't get that idea ever again! But she and I got into it like cats and dogs, bitching up a storm and oh boy, did it take long for her to understand the situation we're in. Yes. I may be about 50 miles from her, but if you also take into consideration about the fact that she's still trying to recover from being all noodle-limbed because she was in a coma for about three and a half days WITH A FEEDING AND BREATHING TUBE DOWN HER FUCKING THROAT. On top of all this, the staff at the rehab center do not want her to leave, because in her current state as of right now, it would turn into a huge liability problem if she were to fall down! So yes! She presents a huge fucking fall risk!

I love her with all my heart and soul, you guys. But for all intents and purposes, logic and reasoning is not one of her strong suits. I've had to repeat this to her time and time again in order for her to get the point. I'm fine where I am. I'm getting three square meals a day, I'm able to move around to some degree and I'm safe! She's safe where she is, she's getting three square meals a day and she's also recovering rather nicely so far. Unfortunately, she's not 100% according to the rehab center staff. It's a pain in the ass, but this is the problem that we're going to have to put up with for now, whether you like it or not!

...I think I got a little bit heated there. For that, I apologize.

But the important thing to remember here people is that you can only do so much with so little. And given our current situation, I can still make the best of it despite the increased distance. Sure, it's a stone's throw away from Connecticut, but if there are times when I wanna go somewhere, I can do that. The only drawback is that I gotta be out the door early in the morning. But hey. I can put up with it. I really can! It's just up to other people to make a few concessions themselves to truly understand the gravity of the situation.

Ah well. Maybe it's better that if I don't try to understand people sometimes. Irritating as it may be, but then again, what other option do I have?

Anyways, I suppose I might as well get going for now. I'll be around later on. I'm just giving you guys a heads up as to where I am now and that I'm still doing okay. See you soon.
 
Wednesday Afternoon,
September 16th, 2015

Well. The other shelter I was at in Westerly didn't exactly pan out the way I had figured it would. But at the very least, I'm back in Wakefield now in familiar territory and what have you. The main thing is this, however. I did okay over there, but the problem was that I only had 30 days there. Not to mention transportation was a royal pain in the balls. I mean for fuck's sake people. I had to basically get up with the chickens - something that I've never really been good with in the first place, mind you - in order to even catch a bus back into the city and then I'm stuck there until about this time when I then gotta get back out there. Just didn't feel right. The people there were nice and all that, but then there were some that kind of... That kind of didn't exactly fit the mantra of who I would consider to be all around nice people.

But hey, at least there's more accessibility around here to some regard or another.

But now I know what I need to do. I need to find somewhere to hole up, get some money together and then I'll be just fine, even if it's somewhere that's out in the boonies of the state. As much as I would love to get back into the city, it's not exactly all that pleasant around some of those old areas I used to live near.

So yeah. Still here, people. Still alright. Still not all that crazy. Yet. It's just I need to get my priorities straight and then I'll be fine.
 
Saturday Night,
September 26th, 2015


View: http://youtube.com/watch?v=tMrFiOjxk5s


I left the shelter today.

But when I think about it, did I do so for the right reason? Of course I did. Besides, the place was starting to become something that was far removed from its original intent. It was supposed to be a place where you can first lay your head down for a little bit of rest while at the same time you were also responsible for where you go next. And as long as you don't screw up along the way, you were golden. In this current incarnation of that shelter, it's far too easy to get written up and for the most bullshit of reasons. On top of this, the staff there is either completely incompetent or are only in it for the big power grab while handing off dealing with the other guests to someone who I can only assume was better suited to be a goddamned preschool teacher.

So yes. I made the right decision to leave. On top of this, the people. Oh Jesus H. Christ from his throne, the people. Some of them were the nicest people you'll ever know, but when the lights go out and everything is quiet, that's where everything changes. Snoring, farting, someone muttering something threatening under their breath about wanting to kill the other guy for snoring, and a score of other reasons that I just can't explain without wanting to puke my guts out.

It's true that we all come from different walks of life and all that jazz, but there has to come a point where you just have to put your foot down and say enough is enough.

And well, ladies and gentlemen, I hit my breaking point today. On top of this, I had a feeling that I was going to get thrown out anyway, so in effect, I denied that bitch the satisfaction of giving me the axe. You might say that the decision that I made is insane and I fucked myself over. You have every right to say that. But what would you do differently? Would you put up with this nonsense? Or would you get out of there with your head held high and your shoulders held back and proclaim loudly that you have seen the writing on the wall and that you're not going to take it anymore?

That was what I did.

But what happens from here on out is my decision and mine alone. Hopefully this all turns out well, because I've about had it with all of this shitty luck.
 
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It's hard to say. I've been homeless before but I elected to stay with people I barely knew rather than a shelter. Out of all the people I stayed with, I was only in danger of being thrown out once. I wish I would have just left, rather than them telling me I had to leave. I was trying to be on my best behavior, I was bending over backwards to get a little more time until I lined up the next place to stay but it didn't work. They just wanted the place back to themselves and they were tired of housing me. I think I have more patience than a normal person would, my parents get mad at me a lot for putting up with the shit that I do(coincidently they are the reason why I have a very high tolerance for bullshit).

Of course you left for the right reasons. I'm more worried about where you are now. At the very least, the few times I've been homeless I had a car to stay in. But I know many people do not have that luxury.

I wish you better luck.
 
Wednesday Night,
October 7th, 2015

Finally, a little bit of vindication after a year's worth of bullshit that my mother and I had to put up with. What I mean by this ladies and gents, is that she finally got those assholes over at SSI to finally give her the money that was owed to her and once everything is all wrapped up in a nice little package, we'll finally be going home. There's more to it, but I'm on a PSP right now. I'll add more. It'll be worth the wait.

inb4 Gabe Newell joke

Late Night Edit

Okay, I'm on a tablet, so let's get to the good stuff. So yes, I left the shelter before this all happened. The truth of the matter was that I knew that I was going to get the axe anyway due to the fact that I had two strikes against me anyhow - one of which I will admit to being my fault, but it was because of the fact that I was trying to look for work so that I could then put my name into the transitional part of the program and maybe hole up there until my mom finally got word from her lawyer that everything was all done n their end and so on and so forth - so, I had to come up with a reasonable enough of a lie to get me out of there.

Personally, I hate having to lie. But when it came to either covering my ass or getting thrown out, I had a tough choice to make. So, I put on a poker face and said that I was leaving because my mom finally got her SSI and that I was headed over to the nursing home to go and hang out with her for a while.

When I think about it though, it was in way, a setup to what was going to change. Weird as this may sound, but it all fell into place at the right time. It was about two days later that my mom shot me a text saying that she finally got the approval she was looking for. It felt as though that I had called it, but it was a couple days early.

In effect, I had to spend a night at my uncle's place. That was the start of it. After that, I headed for one of my cousin's place for a few days, where I spent them watching nearly all episodes of Kill La Kill. As batshit nuts as it was, people, I have finally understood as to why it's by far and large one of those shows that have rightfully earned the hype.

After a time, I had to come here to a friend of my mom's place and I've been here for about a week. Truth be told, she's a little on the crazy side plus a bit on the cunty side, but at this point in time, it doesn't matter anymore.

I'm going home. Jesus Christ, son of Mary and Joseph, I'm going home. This year long nightmare she and I have had to endure is FINALLY COMING TO A MERCIFUL END. Now, if she can just get better, get her bearings and get mobile, we can move the fuck on. I've had it with this. I've had it in general with the cramped quarters, I've had it with everything in general. I just want to get home and get back in my own skin!

I think that's all that I can think about for tonight, people. I'm tired. But tomorrow will be busy for me, no doubt.

I can hardly wait.

But yes. Off with me. The rebuilding phase begins soon. Be talking with you guys soon.
 
Yay! I'm so glad everything is finally turning around for you!

Also Kill La Kill is great. :)

I'm so happy for you though, BB. It was kind of sad reading all your journal entries and wishing I could do more for you. I hope everything continues to get better.
 
BB = survivor
BB = awesome
BB = an example of what others should try to be like...for srz.

I say this because all too often people have shit thrown at them and then they do nothing. They just let themselves get swallowed up and then they whine about this and that. But you? You took your hand...you did what you could with it and then you picked yourself up and said the big fat fuck you to everything and did what needed to be done. Honestly, that is motherfucking admirable as hell. It truly is. Anyone who says otherwise has no clue or right to bitch about shit. So, hold your head up high and proud, BB. You're definitely something. <33333 *hugs*

And I'm so glad that things are finally moving on the up and up. You and your mom deserve that. Like...soooo much so!
 
Much as I appreciate the notion DA, I don't feel as though that I'm deserving of that amount of praise. To quote some lyrics from Mr. Roboto from Styx, it goes like this.

I'm not a hero! I'm not a savior! Forget what you know. I'm just a man whose circumstances went beyond his control!

And well, that's how it went. Everything was fine one day, the next day, it all went to hell in a hand bag as far back as... I want to say April or May of 2013. I can't really remember now. I know it started when my mom was diagnosed with Hepatitis C, that was for certain.

When I think of it nowadays, I'm not really a special person nor am I someone that people should look up to. But knowing there are people like you out there that show more of a heart than most people I've known in my lifetime actually lets me know there are still some decent people out there in the world and for this reason, I am ever so grateful. Thank you so much, DA and BD. :)
 
<3333

Well, I still say you are. I've seen a lot of people just bitch about life and never do anything about it except bitch and find ways to pass blame and then do nothing. You just are not that sort of person. You look at your situation and just fucking do something about it. Even if your situation truly is unfair (because, honestly, the worst whiners are ones who really have no place to whine....and when I say whine...I'm not talking about venting. There's venting and then there's WHINE), you STILL just give it the stare down. I just don't know very many who'd deal with things that way. I'm not even sure if I could. So yeah...I'm going to call it like I see it. : )
 
Late Night,
October 10th, 2015

I had a nice, long moment of uninterrupted silence today. A moment of which that I honestly just wished would've lasted just a little bit longer, in my opinion. But even then, I just have to remind myself of the fact that pretty goddamn soon, I will soon be in my own room, with my own shit and there will be no one who will bother either myself and/or my mother.

I just need to clear this last hurdle and then it's all done.

That would be the case, if the people I was staying with right now were a a tad more cooperative and perhaps a smidge more pleasant. Apparently, that's a bit much to fucking ask for. No, everything's fine the way it is, so you don't get a say in it.

HAHAHA.

:huh:

GO FUCK YOURSELF WITH A PIECE OF BREAD YOU MENTAL RANK AMATEUR BITCH! And by the way, your kids are flatout fucking rejects that even I'm shocked to have seen even passed let alone went through grade school and attempted to pass high school.

Of course, the proud moment of parenting is when one of them comes home from detention with a slip in hand saying they were sent there because of a highly abrasive comment that instead of admonishing your child for that, you instead laugh it off like, "Oh come on! It's no big deal!"

U FUKKEN WOT M8?

No! No! A thousand times no!

And one of the kids' friends, oh Saints perserve us, one of those kids' friends. The amount of whining I heard coming from his head made me just flat out hate him because of how much of a sniveling little PUSSY he was sounding, even moreso than when I encountered a father and son pair on the R-Line, listening to the son complain about something relating to an XBOX Live account or whatever?

FUCK YOU. UGH.

People whine and complain about some of the most baseless shit I've ever heard of! And what goddamn right should they even be able to complain about anything, especially if they're teenagers???

Motherfucker. Shut. Up. Nobody wants to hear it. Most of all, I don't want to hear it. It's useless noise, coming from useless people! And this is supposedly the next generation that's going to lead this country one day soon, right?

2011-10-17_no-postcard.jpg


Parents. It's your job as of here and now that you must perform you civic duty of beating eight tons of shit out of your kid's heads, regardless of their age, gender, body type or whatever. If this is what we're going to be seeing from today onward, with spoiled rotten little shits whining about whatever little problems they have about whatever it may pertain to or not, just fucking beat them soundly.

And before someone comes to this complaining about whatever, allow me to explain something. I'm not talking about like full-on child abuse of that sort, god no. These kids of today need a firm, open palmed tap on the back of the head because of how unrepentantly ignorant and stupid they can be! And tell them to pull up their pants! Secondly, they don't need up be up your ass 24/7 as well as poke their nose in other people's business!

...Only a matter of time. It's only a matter of time.

Ugh. I'm fucking tired. Hopefully this might get a laugh out of some of you.

See ya soon.
 
U FUKKEN WOT M8?

I lol'd. There's a character in Splatoon that I imagine every time I see that phrase now because he talks "British".

As far as kids go, I'm hoping I'll be one of those people who can raise decent kids without actually...hitting them. I feel like a lot of kids who are punished physically think that violence solves their problems. I would rather handle things differently and actually talk to my kids, build a strong sense of trust so they don't feel inclined to be little shits. And if that doesn't work, I've seen parents be successful with punishing their kids in a more military style approach. Jumping jacks, push ups, laps around the house....stuff like that.

Teaching your kids the value in certain things will go a long way. Otherwise you just get kids who whine about everything like what you have to deal with.

I'm really not looking forward to raising kids though in a generation where you can connect with anyone over the phone or internet. Whatever happened to playing outside and hanging out with your friends?
 
Late Night,
October 12th, 2015

If there's one thing that I know I can say a mighty big fuck off to, that would be RIPTA for running on a holiday schedule which royally screwed up my travel plans. So yeah, you can blame Christopher Columbus for that.

So, I got to go see my mom and talk about our plans as to what we're going to be doing once her money comes in. Needless to say, we got plenty of them. Of them is plans for travel, either out to Martha's Vineyard or Block Island, but somehow, I don't think that'll happen due to the changing of the seasons as it were. She also made the pitch to want to head out towards either Kansas or Texas. So there's that. Regardless of which, she needs as much of a break from this place, that's for certain. I also want one, too.

But for some reason, I do know that I left some old memories out there, more with Kansas.

Man, there's just so much that we gotta do. I'm just not sure what order to do it all in, to be honest. But, I do know one thing for sure, though. It'll happen when it happens. And when it does, we'll be taking off like a rocket.

But yeah. I managed to get out of that hovel for today. As of tonight, I'm here at my dad's place, and at least, I'm able to get onto his computer and start jotting this little entry down and state my thoughts of the night.

Not really sure of what more to say here, so I guess I might as well scram for now.

I can hardly wait. But good things comes to those who wait, as I've no doubt heard it said.

See you guys again soon.
 
Tuesday Night,
October 20th, 2015

I can practically feel it now. The end is in sight.

Reason as to why I say this tonight is because of the fact that my mom called me up tonight from the old folks' home saying that she's on her way to see her lawyer tomorrow morning, and if all goes as planned, I may be on my way to go see her either in downtown Pawtucket or downtown Providence where we'll hook up and go do some power shopping.

I don't think anybody has any idea as to what this has felt like over the past year. Between my mom's Hep C, eviction, homeless shelters, her landing in a hospital with pneumonia and demanding to be intubated, this whole year has been nothing short of a nightmare. But that doesn't matter anymore. Once we're in that house with our things and even some new stuff, we'll be sitting pretty once more.

In short people, I am tired. So tired of this shit. So very tired. I just want this to be over and done with. And once it is done, I have no further need for anybody after the lack of help we've been shown.

Why yes, I'm still angry with those people I still refer to as "friends" and "family", if you're wondering. And justifiably so. Because where were they all when this was happening?

Well, let me spell it out for you like this. This whole asking for anybody's help thing? Nuh-uh. Not happening. Never again, and that's that.

Heartless as that may sound, but think about it. Wouldn't you do the exact same thing if that was you and your loved one out there and you've had to deal with this horseshit for a year? Either way, it's almost done and I can't wait.

It's just one more day...

One more night. And then, the nightmare will be all over.
 
I'm at the point where I don't expect from any of my family and only two of my friends have helped me without expecting anything in return *cough*sex*cough* so yeah. I don't ask anyone for help, I know where you're coming from.
 
Late Night,
October 24th, 2015

I have spent the whole day wishing that murder was legal, if only for just one day. Why? Because are the kinds of people in this world who are just not meant to be. Animals, half-wit hypocrites who don't even know half of the words they say can be turned right back onto them, and basically anybody who says that they are the most "real" thing out there.

Let me put this out there. You, that so-called, "genuine article" make me sick to my stomach. You make me want to retch so hard that I end up upchucking my whole intestinal system. You make me want to hurl a gout of acidic bile into your face.

No. You are not the most "real" person out there and you never will be. You are amongst the lowest of the lowest common denominators. The absolute lowest. Hell, I couldn't think of a more miserable place for people like you. But yet, you scream and rant and rave at someone like me from your "ivory" tower like I'm one of those types of dirty hood rats that you clearly fuck every single night?

FUCK YOU! PFFFFFFT!

And hey, you don't have to worry. I get the hint. It's been awkward for you that you can't get laid in your own house since I've been here, sleeping on your couch. I so get it. Everything has been made clear to me. Don't worry. I get it. For the record, though? Yeah. I didn't think I'd be here this long, either. Do you honestly think I didn't pick up on that, you wretched fucking cunt?

What's more, here's other ways that you're a double-talking hypocrite. When you openly claimed to me that you only clean the house when you felt like it for one, and for the other thing? You don't flush after you finish taking a piss, AND I KNOW IT'S YOU, SO DON'T YOU FUCKING LIE TO ME.

So now. Tell me again as to what makes you so fucking special? You work at a fucking 7-11. Okay. What? Am I supposed to be impressed?

(Part 2 due to character limit soon to be written)
 
(Part 2)

So what? Lots of people work that same job as you do, go there at the same hour in the morning, afternoon, evening, late at night, get paid the same hourly wage as you do, have to put up with the same unseemly types of people as you do, and they come home feeling the exact same as you do, so don't think of yourself at the top of the fucking totem pole when you're no different from everybody else on that roster. You're nothing special to your higher-ups. You're just another body to fill that gaping maw of the corporate world. You're nothing but a number. Your whole existence equates to be nothing more than a child's plaything in the grand scheme of things. You're NOTHING. Don't try to play yourself off like you know what you went through, because you haven't truly hit rock bottom with everything that's happened to me or - here's something! - my mom that you're fucking FRIENDS WITH!!!

YOU KNOW NOTHING OF THE HELL WE WENT TRHOUGH. NOTHING. AND I CAN GIVE LESS OF A FUCK ABOUT YOUR BREAKUPS, OH BOOHOO, POOR YOU.

Shut the fuck up. You are nothing more than a blemish on the ass of society. You have not yet begun to experience the bottom of that barrel we've spent upwards to a fucking year crawling out of!

No. You've not yet experienced the feeling you get when your own family has basically turned their backs to you when you've helped them all.

I pray you don't know what that feels like. But I hope you know this. I don't ever want to see that disgusting face of yours ever. I don't even want to acknowledge your presence. Just pretend you never met me.

Sorry you had to read all that, people. But when it comes to stupid people like this, I feel that there should be little reservations in Hell made for people with this amount of ignorance.

And yeah, this was perhaps the meanest thing I've ever written. But at this point, the reason I feel this way is because of this hair-encrusted shitty little tag-nut.

People like this need food poisoning. Ugh.
 
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