It can find you well enough

All sorts of icky acidy goodness filling my stomach.

I’m tired of my job. I mean, I love my job. I’m tired of never working. I haven’t worked since the third of April. That’s sixteen days, and only three of those days I’m unable to work. Okay, Five, if you count tuesdays.

ALL THE SAME. I have a paycheck i’m getting now that is going to be nothing. as in NO money. I feel like pulling my hair out. I hate not working. I hate not having a job, i feel useless and like I’m a mooch. No one ever says it to me, but I do. I feel like a mooch and I”m feeding off of other people. Especially Scott. I feel like I’m really coasting off of his paycheck, and i know it puts a lot of stress on him. Or at least I feel like I put a lot of stress on him. I’m exhausted from feeling like i’m living in two places.

and helpless and insane. I don’t know how to do anything. I don’t know how to pick out a good apartment, I don’t know how to cook very well. i apparently can’t write (according to my teacher) I like to vaccum in skirts, and I bite the skin on the inside of my cheeks. I don’t own a car, I wish I did. I dont’ know how to do anything well enough to make a job of it, with the psycho exception of the alphabet. I know the alphabet, and I know it well enough to be paid an amazingly low amount to put disgusting germy games back in order for four hours a week. No one cares.

and I just sit back and let bad things, like this damn work insanity, happen to me because i have this brain impairment that makes me think “I deserve bad things that happen to me” I dont’ know where it came from. I don’t know why i have it. I just do.

and i feel like my brain is slowly leaking out my ears thanks to everywhere my mind has to be at once. School, and work and wedding plans, after wedding plans…. work and the like. New job, apartment (which i know nothing about finding a good apartment) I’m starting to just … ooze stress.

I was thinking about this quote last night. Scott was saying that he wished that people were more rational about things. It made me think of this: “Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping… …waiting… And though unwanted… …unbidden… it will stir…open its jaws, and howl. It speaks to us… guides us… Passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love… the clarity of hatred… and the ecstasy of grief.It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we’d know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank… Without passion, we’d be truly dead.”

I believe it. I believe that the opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference. Indifference, the lack of passion, is what kills everyone. It’s what makes the rejected weep and neglected children exist. I always used to think that if my Dad hit me, at least i’d know how he felt about me. (not that he ever did, i’m just saying) the not knowing… that’s what kills you. The wondering if it’s true. Floundering between one place and another. Not knowing how someone feels, and then finding that person feels nothing, not good nor bad…. not evoking any sort of emotion in a person can kill you.

Passion: intense, driving, or overmastering feeling or conviction

How can you live without it? I’m not saying you should let your passions rule you (too many people do, thus the STD out break-y non-goodness.) Let them fill you. And show restraint. I’m definitely not saying “Go out and be tempted on purpose! WHEE!” That’d just be stupid. No… Live. Be free. Feel emotions. Be angry when you’re angry, and be sad when you’re sad, and show it when you’re happy. Live in the moment of what you’re feeling. Love it.

Derringer Meryl [Do Not Seek Out Danger] Out

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