So I met someone. I met her online, which is usually not a great place to meet people (at least with my luck). But I went all the way to Kelso to meet her and she is fantastic! Just like most people I mention on here I wont really use her real name, for now I'll just call her Monster (she'd get it). Now my hunt for a job just when up about [random inconceivable number] times more. But I'm okay with that, I probably need the extra fire under my ass. So starting next week (after the forth), I will be on the hunt like I've never hunted before.
Anyways back to Monster, <3.
She's flawless, a perfect beauty. She makes me smle and every day I swear I falling more and more inlove with her. It's been so long since I've felt so happy. Her smile, her kiss, her laughter, it's all bliss. I hope I can hold on to this one forever.
About Me
- Fuzzy Machine
- My name is Dion Williams (A.K.A. Fuzzy Machine). I find my self kindled by the fashion, music and life style of the average industrialist. I leaned onto this life style, just to give it a peak and I found my self being swallowed whole. I know this is where I belong. And I know this is where I'll stay. So that I am, amongst the many, just another RivitHead.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
The Diary Of A RivitHead: Dissapoint
I don't know why I write in this stupid blog. It's not like anyone reads it or gives me feed back, but why would they. Aside from the injuries my life is pretty boring. I feel like I'm just digging a big fucking pointless hole. I can't seem to focus on anything important in life aside from smoking pot and making shitty music, music that I ever so rarely play an instrument on (in fact I sample and loop my own fucking instrument parts because I cant play worth a shit). I find myself doubting I'll ever find a job, who would hire someone like me, I look like a fuck up, I must be. I can't speak to people I don't know with out saying something retarded or nothing at all. As much complements I get on being intelligent or smart I sure am a fucking idiot. I can't seem to be good at anything. I went to school for welding and what do I have to show for my hard work, completely forgetting how to weld (not from memoryloss, more like I haven't done it in well over a year and I wasn't good at it in the first place).
I sleep on a used ikia chair that folds out into a bed. It's mattress has the grossest stains all over it from some one spilling something on it from way before I was ever using it, in fact I think its cleaner now. Two boards are broken on it from me slamming my knee in to it, one on each side (both happen to be located where my lower back would rest so I could never get comfortable on it). I have to deal with fleas because I just had to have my cat move in with me, I wouldn't even be able to eat if it wasn't for EBT, even then I can't use that to feed my cat. I'm too embarrassed with where I live and the place I am in life to ever wanna bring a girl over or even invite family. I am a loser. No job, no motivation, no (useful) education.
Why the fuck am I still alive. I feel like I'm waiting for something to happen but everytime it starts getting good, I fall even further then I was before. I can't keep going on like this, I can't. I hate asking people for money even if its something as small as busfair ($2.50, assuming I wont need cash for a bus back). I hate looking at myself and knowing I'm not healthy and I can't do shit about it because I cant afford to see a doctor. I want security, but I feel so damn insecure. I want to live, but I'm so fucking dead. It's like no mater what I do or how I do it, it will never be what this world needs. It will never be what I need. I get by, just enough to say I'm still around.
So maybe if I cut my hair. Maybe if I wore some different cloths. Maybe if I didn't have so many scars to cover. Maybe if I didn't fall under trances of depression. Maybe if I could speak to new people without stuttering or slurring or saying the wrong fucking thing every fucking time. Maybe if I become some one other then me. Maybe I could be happy. Maybe I would live a better life. Maybe I wouldn't be so ashamed to be me.
I sleep on a used ikia chair that folds out into a bed. It's mattress has the grossest stains all over it from some one spilling something on it from way before I was ever using it, in fact I think its cleaner now. Two boards are broken on it from me slamming my knee in to it, one on each side (both happen to be located where my lower back would rest so I could never get comfortable on it). I have to deal with fleas because I just had to have my cat move in with me, I wouldn't even be able to eat if it wasn't for EBT, even then I can't use that to feed my cat. I'm too embarrassed with where I live and the place I am in life to ever wanna bring a girl over or even invite family. I am a loser. No job, no motivation, no (useful) education.
Why the fuck am I still alive. I feel like I'm waiting for something to happen but everytime it starts getting good, I fall even further then I was before. I can't keep going on like this, I can't. I hate asking people for money even if its something as small as busfair ($2.50, assuming I wont need cash for a bus back). I hate looking at myself and knowing I'm not healthy and I can't do shit about it because I cant afford to see a doctor. I want security, but I feel so damn insecure. I want to live, but I'm so fucking dead. It's like no mater what I do or how I do it, it will never be what this world needs. It will never be what I need. I get by, just enough to say I'm still around.
So maybe if I cut my hair. Maybe if I wore some different cloths. Maybe if I didn't have so many scars to cover. Maybe if I didn't fall under trances of depression. Maybe if I could speak to new people without stuttering or slurring or saying the wrong fucking thing every fucking time. Maybe if I become some one other then me. Maybe I could be happy. Maybe I would live a better life. Maybe I wouldn't be so ashamed to be me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)