I'm not going to talk to you.

God fucking dammit. Let me just talk about how much I legitimately hate the question "So, got any plans?"  This was exceptionally bad when people first realized I was moving from Calgary back to Vancouver. "Are you going to school?" No, I'm done school. Why is it because I choose to move that it must be for this one reason? Am I not free to move anywhere I want to for whatever reason until I have a degree? Fuck that.

"Oh, well you must have a job lined up then... *gasp* You don't?!" No, I didn't have a job lined up. Look, I've spent an innumerable number of days in my life "job-hunting," I've got this shit down pat. I am confident that I could find a job any where in the world. Unemployment rates do not mean shit to me. I put effort into finding work, I don't purposely laze about my house so I can play X Box Live all day and avoid the discomfort of changing out of clothes which are only appropriate to wear in my living room. I'm going to have a job in no time.

"What are you doing tomorrow? This weekend? Anything... at all?" hgfgddhgs. Listen. I'm not the kind of person who makes "plans." I go with the rotting ebb and flow of daily life, without making promises to anything specific.This style of living leaves me very open to literally do nothing for long periods of time, yes. I have gone up to a week without going outside before. What people fail to comprehend is this leaves me free to do whatever I like, any day that I choose. Any event that comes up, I can choose to follow through because I want to or ignore it if I don't. There is no "I can't, got other plans." Which apparently makes people feel so needlessly self-righteous when they get to say it. Not me.

This doesn't mean my life is meaningless or empty. I do like to stay inside sometimes, even when there's things to do. I don't have the social aptitude to make plans, go out everyday, go to parties, go out on dates. It's not me. So when people ask me "What are you up to this week? Nothing?" and then serve me a pure look of disgust, it makes me feel like I'm living my life wrong or something. I hate when people ask me these questions because now I have to explain that I literally have to force myself into going to just enough social situations that keep me from jumping off a tall building after too much time alone. And when I have to make plans for my life, when I have to think of what I hope to be doing in a year's time or in a decade, I want to stop thinking and smash my face into a brick wall. I'm not worthless because I don't do something worthwhile every single day so just fuck off, please.  And that's my rant for today.

Written this morning in a half-awake stupor.

You can come in if you like.
It's really quite messy. And not very quiet.
In fact, the echo in here could drive you crazy.
I've forgotten it's here.
Oh, have you tripped on something?
I've memorized the layout, I know my way around.
I should really clean up around here someday.
Are you hurting? What's wrong?
    Is it too noisy? Loud?
I think you might be overwhelmed.
I'd offer you a place to sit, but I'm afraid you'll stay too long.
Here, let me show you to the door.
Follow closely, yes, you'll be fine.
There you go, now you're outside.
You've saved yourself, and soon enough,
that headache will subside.

Perhaps, sir, we will meet again,
but then, I will not let you in.

I never needed anybody.

So many fish there in the sea
I wanted you, you wanted me
That's just a phase, it's got to pass
I was a train moving too fast


Ugh, why is this my life. Same story over and over.

Sorry, don't feel like writing more. Can't... think. I'll try tomorrow.

Ooh look, it's my life.

I think this is pretty much exactly what my first date is gonna be like. Me being the bear.

I like how ambiguous this image is. When I first read it, I interpreted it as reading makes you better the way medicine cures a cold. But then I read it again and I'm wondering if i intends to mean reading makes you superior to people who don't read. I really like it the first way though, so I promise myself now that I'm going to do some reading later and hopefully not feel so lousy.

I don't really know what my problem is. I have too many moods. A lot of the time I feel like I'm some tiny girl but my emotions grow inside me like weather balloons. And they expand until they burst and turn me into an overflowing cup of misery. I try so hard to be normal but it's unfathomable for me to achieve.

My dad phoned me yesterday. We had a decent back-and-forth and we were almost at goodbye before he said "Is everything alright? You sound kind of... lonely." And I couldn't hold on. I choked out the words "I'm alright" through my heart in my throat and tears starting in my eyes. "Oh, sweetheart..." he says and I lose it all. I'm full on crying and my dad stays on the line to talk me down and tell me all the things I should be happy for. And for half an hour, he pours out every perfect motivational thing he can say while I bawl on the other end of the line. Then he tells me "I'm sorry if I'm keeping you on the phone, but this is the longest we've ever spoken and I'm enjoying this." Now I don't know if he actually knows what he's saying or if he's really trying to make me feel better, but I'm glad he talked to me for that long. And I thought of how only a week before, I was crying myself to sleep one night because of something he said that really upset me. My dad does a lot for me and is one of the only people I can think of who might understand my emotions, but there will always be the part of my brain that tells me to despise him for leaving me as a child and finding his own happiness. For being satisfied with me only being in his life 40 percent of the time and still getting to call himself my father. For commenting on my weight and my issues with it every single time he sees me.

 I usually miss my dad the most and this is strange to me because he's probably the one who hurts me the most too.

I just really miss everyone today.

No No No.

Not working is causing me to lose my mind. I miss being outside for ten hours a day, earning my living. I have only been off work for six days and it feels like quitting smoking. When I'm not working, it means I made no money today. This is bad. This means I get time to relax and sleep in and think. I don't enjoy this. I have to think about both of my grandmothers, deteriorating into old age. Losing their dignity and sanity and I am flying miles away from them both. This kills me. I've never experienced the death of a family member. I think I would die if I lost my parents. And there's my grandpa who taught me how to enjoy life through work. My grandma who makes the homemade noodles that I'll never stop craving.

My uncle is getting married this weekend. My uncle who has lived with cystic fibrosis his entire life. The same disease that killed his sister, my aunt, when she was a teen. He waited for years for a double lung transplant that would have meant certain death without it. The man has lost most of his greatest friends to CF, after it initially brought them together. His transplant was over a decade ago and now he gets to marry his girl. In the darkest moment of my life, I've always turned to him and regarded the way he fought for his. I am so grateful he's always been there in the back of my mind to keep me from jumping the bridge. I hope to tell him how much he's done for me someday.