Undone

Sometimes normal people say the most brilliant things. Sometimes normal people take characters and make THEM say the most brilliant things.

Sometimes the most brilliant people, are normal.

The monk shook his head, unable to look at her. “I told you to forget about it, Kagome-sama,” he said quietly. “And so it is not open for discussion.”

She felt her heart constrict in her chest. “No,” she told him. “I can’t. You can’t just tell me to stop.”

and isn’t that what i’ve been trying to say since June?

You just can’t tell me to stop.

Hardly anything works that way.

Derringer Meryl [Short Sweet, Thoughtful] Out

bwahaha! Finally, I got into my diary. I know that sounds odd, but anyone who has run a free diary on Diaryland knows that when it’s busy– sometimes you can’t write an entry. it’s slightly annoying. But then again– i’m not paying, so i don’t really have a right to complain.

worked last night. i was supposed to work with Jerkie-mc-jerkerson but he was sick and switched Monkey Schedules. It was interesting. Tho– i know monkey reads this, (and i know it, because he and i discuss things i say once ina while) I will refrain on a full commentary on what happened last night.

We were busy. Very very Busy. I took some work home because i didn’t get it done while i was AT work. and No, i didn’t get paid extra.

Now, for those of you who are upset and the wrongness of it all, me working and not getting paid…. well– i dont’ really care. Sure, it wasn’t MY fault the work didn’t get done before we closed, in fact… but whatever. It’s not like i wasn’t already going to be up till one in the morning– now i was just doing something that actually counted. 😀

Mou. I’ve been trying to figure out what i can do (sans medication…) to help myself with my depression. I hate my medication, as i’ve said multiple times before– but– i seem to be in this odd place in my life.

Where I hate everything about myself. I’d change it all, and i hate to look at myself in the mirror (hence the fact there are no mirrors in my room… that and a really scary story i was told when i was younger….) but i’m okay. i mood swing, really fast. but i’m trying to keep it in check better. Trying to speak to myself in my head to calm myself down.

i’m not a nutcase, I’m different than you– in fact, maybe you’re what’s different and my moodiness is normal. In fact, if the overwhelming amount of the general populous is depressed and moody, you’re the minority…. maybe you should bend to them…. *leers*

and i’ve come to realize that i write in this journal as i do in my physical Journal. I address someone as “you” and i never really name HERE who they are where as the physical journal has a specific person i’m writing to. It’s interesting.

I guess it’s a habit. Talking to ‘you’ but when it’s on the internet– it could be the specialist, or Dax, or Wudan– or some random person from Indonesia… or something. I know there’s someone from Pennsylvania somewhere… that reads, i’m not sure if it’s regular– but i’d like to think so. 🙂 That’s just cause i’m delusional…

Mou. It’s tuesday. For those who didn’t know…. *smiles* and we positively absolutely need a lyric spew.

Genius, Duncan Sheik

Clearly I’m a genius

If she only knew it

but somewhere in her radius

I really blew it

I know, I know what I said to her

and I know what I did

What I don’t know is how I could ever be

so incredibly stupid

[CHORUS:]

(you don’t really need to know every last detail.

Its hardly worth telling

suffice to say I said that I would be there

i never came through)

Maybe I’m a genius and

she just don’t see it

I fronted,

I should have admitted,

she saw right through it

I never thought that I could be

so underhanded.

somehow I’ve cornered the market on

the double standard

[CHORUS]

For this act of genius

and so many others

I know I should apologize

and see how it goes

what am I waiting for?

come on, come on, come on, come on

sha la la la la la sha la la la la la la la

to all of the geniuses…

Oh yeah, i’m a genius. I know it. *dances like a freak from the eighties*

Go ME!

Derringer Meryl [You don’t need to know] Out

Short Rant. Or maybe a long one, Who Knows.

Firstly. I know I whine about being lonely. And the obvious remedy would be to date people– right? Well you’re wrong. I can’t go out and find someone yet. No siree. I refuse to. Last time i was in a mind set like this, I ended up in an abusive relationship. After I got out of that, and waited a year and a half to start the next one– i was paranoid to the point i sabotaged the freakin’ thing. So… Yeah. I need to build my self confidence up before I get myself into dating.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t look. 🙂 Hee hee hee.

That’s not what is really bothering me though…

Today is my birthday. I got a resounding Chorus of “Happy Birthdays” When I went into work for a minute today– but it was only because I had called and ribbed Monkey about not knowing it was my Birthday…. despite the fact i emailed him about it being my birthday, and blogging about it, and what not… i wrote it on the schedule at work. *laughs* Poor Boy.

…. *grumbles* I got a phone call from my fellow Animegrrl, Sakura. She was at work, but remembered it was my birthday (or close to it, but she was smack dab on.) and so decided to call. That’s not the grumbly part. The grumbly part is that Red hasn’t called. Mou. She’s busy, i’m sure. I’d be all mopey about it…. but in the end, I’m probably overreacting. I mean… it’s not like I didn’t dote on her for her birthday, right??

*coughs* Fourty Bucks I wasted. Honest to Jesus.

Mou.

Derringer Meryl [All I ask is a fetching PHONE CALL] Out

I’ve never considered myself weak, only kind.

However I draw the line exclusively at touching. You touch me, and i WILL react in a violent manner. I may regret it later, but no matter what, It will be violent. Tonight at work with the Mouth and a parttimer i voiced my extreme dislike for being touched….

And then promptly was touched BY the parttimer.

Let me clarify what I constitute as touching. I have a bubble. I’ve had this bubble for a long time. It surrounds me, and if you invade it, that’s okay, just get out of it fast…. that’s just invading my space. Touching means a part of YOUR body comes into contact with a part of MY body. It’s very simple.

Now, this wasn’t a simple pat on the arm. NO. This was, he slipped his arm along my back and attempted to scoot me out of the way– he did this instead of asking me to move, or more appropriately tapping me on the shoulder, he instead tried to move me forcibly by putting his arm around my waist.

Before I sound like a crazy, I know there is only about three feet behind the counter space (depth wise) and that there isnt’ a lot of space to maneuver. The occasional brush of someone against someone else is NOT unheard of. Hell, I’m used to that.

This was intentional contact, in, in my opinion, inappropriate ways. I don’t LIKE to be touched. I hate it. I told him I hated it.

Then he touched me. Does anyone else see what’s wrong with this? I do.

*shudders* I hid behind the Mouth for the most of the rest of the night. I became quiet and withdrawn. I hate being touched. Being touched reminds me of things– memories long since forgotten– I wanted to hide, i wanted to be away from the store.

For the first time in my two years and three months of working at the store, I felt uncomfortable there. Emotionally. I’ve hated my co-workers– I’ve hated my managers. I’ve hated the customers, but all the while i’ve been safe.

Now I don’t feel like it so much. I don’t know why– but it’s not safe there anymore.

Derringer Meryl [In Need of Help] Out

I had to get this out…. Before I burst … or whatever. I’ve discovered when you’re teeming with rage, it’s not really the time when you’re searching out proper english.

I’m not one of those people who are well composed when they’re angry. It’s like some sort of circle that feeds on it’s self. I’m angry at nothing, and I don’t know why… and that makes me more angry.

– I’m angry that it’s my birthday tomorrow…. and I can’t do anything because it’s sunday.

– I’m angry because i’m too stupid to ask the things I want to….

– I’m angry because I’m going to be nineteen, and I’ve never been kissed.

– I’m angry that I’m not closer with my siblings.

– I’m angry that I let my fears control my life.

– I’m angry that so many other people know where they’re going.

– I’m angry that he didn’t keep his promise.

– I’m angry that my life isn’t a fairy tale.

– I’m angry that I can’t control things. I can’t do things to control people.

– I’m infuriated at my writers block.

– I’m frustrated at my social awkwardness.

– I’m confused as to why I let my parents still make choices for me. Even more so because I don’t know what i’d do if they didn’t.

– I’m pissed that people don’t know what they’re missing out on, by passing me by. I’m psychotic, but damn, It’s fun– if you’ll just join the ride.

– I’m angry that I’m psychotic without my medication, so much to the point it seems that no one wants to be around me when i’m not on them.

– I’m angry that i’m forgotten so quickly….. and replaced even faster.

Mostly i’m angry because i’m depressed. Oh No. Not normal depressed. I’ve got to be Bi-polar. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who has mood swings quite like I do. Who lets things affect me like I do. I don’t know how to distinguish whether i’m normally moody, or chemically unbalanced moody.

I’m not interested in anything. Not video games, Not Buffy, not Angel…. not even shiny Orlando Bloom-y goodness. Doesn’t seem…. intriguing. I mean it does, but I just don’t feel like it.

I’m not suicidal, so put your damn phone down. I’m not in the need of the Boystown hotline, not yet anyway. I don’t think I ever will be. I’ll just convince myself that this is some kind of punishment for my unsavory conduct.

Trust me. I’ve done enough of it to warrant God’s wrath. I dont’ think he hates me, quite the contrary, I think he’s doing this because what I’m doing is wrong. Hates the sin, not the sinner, and all that…..

Don’t try and cheer me up. It’ll just make me more angry. I don’t need your fake friendship now. Maybe you should have tried calling me more? Talking to me occasionally.

No, it wouldn’t have helped. I’m fairly sure this is a damn chemical thing. Still. Having someone to listen would be nice.

Idon’t think i’ve ever felt worse in my life. This ranks right up there after J and I broke up. I feel ugly, none of my clothes fit, and the paranoia reaches all time highs.

and….

and…. I…

I want an exercise bike.

I want to be stunningly thin.

I want to take your breath away.

I want to make every man that ever said NO to me, want to scream yes.

I want to make them take it back.

AndI’ve done it once.

And I can do it again.

Derringer Meryl [After College, then Bike] Out