I need to update more and more and freaking more, but sadly enough my life remains a dull piece of nothing in this world. My relationship is coming to a year in Septemeber. My dreads will be two in September, and I'm still working on driving. I know how to drive at this point, I'm comfortable on the road, I just need to get in and take my test. My mom has a big part of taking the test, but at this point, it's not going to happen anytime soon....hate people sometimes, but that's another day another entry...
When I come up with any username, I try to make sure it equates to a part of me in some way. Pocketlighter. Pocketlighter. I like fire. I'm a pyromaniac. Although I do not see that as of being a disorder, fire is calming. Relaxing. I don't smoke, but I always have matches or lighters with me. In the past I would burn myself, now that was an issue, but just seeing the flames can be as relaxing. Pocketlighter, if you know me a pocket lighter is like an identifier for me. Lame....I know, but there you have it.
Lucky for me I'm going to a club later on for individuals 25+. I feel that I've waited nearly my entire life to get into this place, and now I can finally walk up to the door and walk in. It's kinda like a right of passage. The same thing when you turn 21, you flash your ID like a superior individual in order to get into clubs, pubs and even a glass of beer at a restaurant. Now, I'm going to flash that baby to get into this club...a new club, an unventured place. Sweetness. I'll probably be too excited to drink...nah, who am I kidding? I've been drinking consistently since yesterday. Lmao.
This year I'm not even going to be concerned with my friends who would rather celebrate 4/20, I have other plans.
Out of all the frustration and confusion around here, I gave in. I gave in. Now I just want someone to sit beside me and hold me, someone who really understands. Someone who has to say nothing, but through that silence I know that they still care. I locked myself in the bathroom, turned on the fan, water and some music. I was feeling bad and with all the “peaceful” noise blocking out everything around me, I numbed myself completely. Convinced myself that I deserved the pain. I cut my stomach, my side and hip all on the right side. I felt nothing, but a few minutes afterwards my body began to shake and I could suddenly feel an extreme burning sensation where I had injured. I spoke with Aaron today, I brushed my side on the stair rail, I let out a quick sigh of pain, and he knew. He simply said, “Please don’t do that again.” And just like every other time, I told him that I wouldn’t. It’s so easy to say that and just change the subject. He never asks why. He never asks how, when or where…he just asks that I never do it again. When will that get old? Even though it was a simple demand on his part, I still felt so bad. He’s always so vocal and talkative, but it seemed that for a brief while I took away who he was. He seemed afraid and helpless. He changed the subject and started talking about going to a club this weekend. I smiled at the subject change, but inside I was angry. I wanted to talk; even if I made absolutely no sense…I wanted to talk with him, but nothing. This is the way it always is…it’s like when I need someone so badly, no one is there. I didn’t ask for anything…I just wanted him to listen to anything that I had to say. I'm feeling everything right now...it's the kind of pain that takes your breath away for a bit. There are few things that I'm good at, and numbing out pain is one of them. This time I want to feel it....I want to actually know what I've done.
I decided to stick around home. I don't know why. Is it best for me? No and yes. I called in yesterday for a training with this job that I"m seeking it only pays 8.25 an hour. If I pass the training, I'll have it. It's not enough, but I'll take it.
Ugh. The line is getting so damn old to me. If I had a half a penny for every guy that has said that to me, I'd still be a freaking billionaire. Just looking at that line makes me want to vomit. The funny thing about that line is that every guy who has said that to me, or something close to it are the same ones who end up be lame asses. Lack of respect for me, lack of respect for themselves and just pure mean and because of that, at this point, I'm confused as to what that line even means. Is it a cheap pick up line? It doesn't work like that for me. Special as in sex object special, is that it? I think so. The majority of these guys fail to realize that I am also a thinking object. In fact, I overthink. So after the first two dogs quoted that to me, I caught on, but I'm still hearing it. Is there something wrong with me?
From what I gather, the guys who say that to me:
1.) Expect me to put out, like immediately.
2.) Are obsessed with my breasts/ass.
3.) Are actually 28 years old and above.
4.) Clearly don't believe in personal space.
5.) Treat me like a prized object, in a very negative way.
6.) Are obsessive.
Well, it's old and I'm really tired of the line. In fact, if a guy says it, I'm at the point of just getting up and walking away. I can honestly see me getting married, and if my husband were to say it, I'd file for a divorce the very next time. In my head, you are special to me, sounds like "FIRE! FIRE!", and of course, when there's a fire, you haul ass.
I’ve emailed the president of the college that hosted the job fair. I told him that next year; a better screening of the companies needs to take place. The employers refused to even stand up to speak with you unless you mentioned that you held a college degree, once people realized that they were standing up, shaking my hand, congratulating me and all kinds of positive reinforcement, but I was still being offered no count jobs. I felt very welcomed by the staff of Wishard Hospital; the guy told me that I had more going for me than what was being offered at the job fair. He suggested returning to college for a master degree in special education/English so I could teach.
I went to the FBI booth for kicks. “You’d have to go through a boot training program for these jobs here…” I looked at him, “I’m not pointing at field jobs, I’m pointing to the list of office work.” He started laughing and said, “Well you’d be surprised at how fast people can run and if carrying a gun would be an issue with you, we do offer office work and in most cases they are the highest paying jobs…”
I am currently working with a survey company, still working through the training, but it’s not enough pay, and it’s not really what I’m looking for.
This doesn’t make any sense to me. People are far too careless. Moving from the Meadows to Amber Woods, a neighborhood no better than the Meadows, but in comparison it would appear to be A list. She felt that she was making the best of changes for her life and the lives of her three children, three hours later she’s murdered during a dispute that she wasn’t even involved in. She was seven months pregnant. I asked my mom how the baby was doing, in my mind it just seems unreal that the baby didn’t survive at seven months.
Joyous. I'm in love. Yes. In L.O.V.E. Now, I ask myself, what the hell am I doing? Any and every relationship I always find myself jumping to conclusions about what can come of it...I don't want to jump too far ahead of myself. So, I'll shut up.
It figures: Leave it up to James Brown to kick it on Christmas. He always was a shocker, apparently, even up until the end.