Monday, March 23, 2009

a thought

If pubic hair were gummie bears, would we still need razors?

Sunday, March 22, 2009

indifference about apathy

I'm already angry, then I find myself getting angrier than I'm angry in the first place. Anger displays care and emotion for a specific subject or event.

I'm also angry that I'm impartial to the subject or event and that there's a large chunk of me that just doesn't give a shit if the subject or event is ever resolved.

I'm angry because I can't figure out how I should feel about this though ironically, when I think of this I'm angrier that I'm attempting to figure this bullshit out.

Why care if you aren't sure if you should care or even if you do care? It's probably just second-nature however it's so much harder to care than it is to not care.

To not care means you don't have to feel the pain or sadness or related emotions to the event or subject. You can sleep easier, have less to worry/think about and smile more often.

When you do care it's constantly in the back of your mind; how you can fix it, what you should/could say, when you should/could say it. You care because there's love or something similar to the emotion of love involved. Even if it's the love of money that was lost, you still love what was lost, destroyed or scrambled.

It will keep you up at night, trying to figure out how you feel, but you must remember that not everything is black and white and sometimes... maybe it's okay to care and be angry that you care, then to revert to not caring in spite then become angry again that you can be so cold-hearted, then switch again to caring because of how badly you felt for not caring.

Everything's connected, right? This is just another example of the circles and patterns found through out the universe.

Or I'm just fucking nuts and the meds aren't working.

Religious Assault!

If I were a Christian, I'd definitely be a Catholic.

They have the coolest Christian-arc I've read about. And they drink.

I was at the one and only Catholic service I've been to in my short 24 years and was asked/forced to stand in line. When I reached the front of the line, I was instructed by an old man to open my mouth.

This should have been the warning sign.

He laid a rectangular, or was it trapezoidal, or star shaped...? He laid a cracker on my tongue. I suppose he could tell I was starving and asked that I not chew it. I get a shot glass of wine and follow the crowd back to my seat. The priest rambles on about Jesus and that he is now in my mouth. I am holding Jesus in my mouth! What the HELL kind of bass ackwards shit is this?
You want me to just hold Jesus in my mouth, right? I can't do a thing to this dry, salty bitch and now that it's been five minutes, it's gone soft! Jesus is officially SOFT IN MY MOUTH. And I'm not even allowed to swallow!

Maybe they should pass out the wine first....

Saturday, March 21, 2009

This is something for tomorrow, technically in two minutes, but preferably at least 8 hours from now.

I don't know if I have time or if I have the care or the patience to tonight, but I would very much like to start on this blog so I can get some of this anger off my chest. I hear blogs are very good for anger management and tension release, and even if they aren't, fuck it. I want to bitch. I'm going to find a way.

Drivers, hypocrites, PETA, anti-everythings, people in general.. there isn't much that doesn't piss me off. This will be fun, but I'd rather look for a layout to make me go "Oooh, pretty!" so I'll want to stick around.