get’n some Verbal

I feel like the highs in the last years have been equal to the lows. This universe is  a double edged knife I feel like I am dancing around it. As I sit here I look back through my day thinking about how little I have actually accomplished. In a few minutes Chantha will call me and I’ll smile and go to be missing him again.
He is sleeping at his house tonight, but we spent the whole weekend together. I also spent a lot of time thinking about all kinds of stuff. It was important because it was time away from the computer and out of any routine.
Fuck… this is a world I just can’t keep track with.
I am looking at the end of the $$ that has been coming in and I need to find some source of income. What do I do in days when there is no more.
My whole life is being dumped on its side and the only things I want to hold on to I can’t seem to do at the same time. I miss Tom the Dog so much. He’s with grandma right now and I know it is a place he is happy at…. but I know he misses me too.
I let the puppy down and I let my mom down. I let people and animals down all the  time it seems. Meh, sounds like a bad Korean soap opera.
Bottom line it is hard and I have no one to blame but myself. Seems like the fuse is lit and the next two weeks is the length of the fuse.


Well, if this goes like it has in my head right now… this is going to be one of those bitchy and whiny posts. I am stuck in sand and sinking. I drowning in my filth and am finding it harder and hard to breath with each day.
No work, no job, no faith, no reason, no ability to make it right. It makes swallowing that little jar of pills used to let me sleep at night that much more attractive. How do I get the point where I could finally just end it all.
It gets better for who? I have been sinking for 5 years. I feel so lost and unable to do the things I want to do… and now I feel like I can’t even do the things I need to do.
Pull myself out of these places by remembering or acknowledging that my problems are minor compared to everyone else.
I don’t have the right to wallow in my own fucked up feelings. I have feelings of abject failure; voice of my father nailing that coffin lid corner sealed. I failed my mom more times than I can count; there goes another nail. Failed my sister Lynn; coffin nail. Failed my sister Christine… well that was a broken nail. There must be 50 welll pounded nails I this coffin with each failure and regret I have managed to create in this life.
My hope is my creative output which is really quite good. I am talented. I write. I draw. I build cool shit.  …and I love this guy named Chantha. But… I don’t know if I can sustain that and survive here in San Francisco.
So, what do I do now? Do I give in and leave and try and find somewhere I can survive?  …okay something shiny in the corner… no one is reading this anyway. Fuck it. ….