woe

At this exact moment, I feel really shitty.

I don't understand why I constantly put myself down, because I'm always feeling like shit. and I make it worse. and everyone else makes it worse. and it's a continuous spiral. up and down, in and out. I'm such a baby.

I got my hair done. it doesn't matter what I do to it, because I will always hate it. I never make plans to go out on the same day I get my hair done, because I always spend the rest of the night crying into my pillow. which I plan on doing tonight. I've already started.

I really hate the weather right now. it's supposed to be fall, and it's like a hundred degrees outside. it's september, it's not summer anymore. get the fuck out of here, sun.

I have so much studying to do for my test tomorrow in art history. and I need to study for the quiz tomorrow in my computer information systems class. my mom wanted me to take her to a movie, but we got into a huge fight. so now I'm in my room with the door closed, and I'll probably stay in here all night. I don't mind, I just want to lay down and fall apart quietly.

I woke up crying because of this weird dream. it was so elaborate and insane. in my dream, I was sobbing a lot. I had lost these two books I was holding on to. they meant everything to me, and I was devastated when I lost them. there were other reasons I was crying, but I can't recall. but I do remember, kyle was in my dream, and he was bothering me. I was trying to get away from him, and I just kept crying and crying. I forget what the story was, but it wasn't a good dream. obviously.

I wish I could take back every dollar I ever spent on kyle. way too many, that's for fucking sure. what a waste of money. and what a waste of time.

Money. another reason I've been crying lately. I'm fucked, I don't really have anything. thinking about money makes me physically ill right now. work blows, one day a week is bullshit. I'm applying for new places, new faces. I'm tired of borrowing and stealing.

I'm just really fucking tired. all the time. being a crybaby is exhausting.

manta ray

I can't wait for the day I sleep more than six hours. it's usually six or less. I'm always a zombie, but you don't care.

I smell onions, still. let me explain - I went to subway to get my dad and I a sandwich to split. get home, get high, go back in the kitchen and quickly grab my side of the sandwich. or so I thought. I take an enormous bite, and immediately my taste-buds start screaming in agony. onions. I was too high to realize and too late to do anything. it was over. I brushed my teeth repeatedly, I chewed gum. still reeks. I went to english class feeling extremely paranoid of the awful scent. I could taste it still, swishing around in my mouth. it's the worst. onions are awful.

Ashley came down for the weekend, that made me happy. on thursday, we headed to the honda center to see muse, for free. we park and then proceed to smoke several bowls. we were excited. we have a tendency to get really clumsy when we smoke, especially together. I go to hand her the lighter and it slips/flies out of my hand in the direction towards the floor. I lean over and stick my head under there, and she scoots back her chair and we can't stop laughing. I think we were looking for that goddamn lighter for like ten minutes. my head was between her legs and we were just grasping around, in the dark. of course her car doesn't have any lights in it. finally we give up, and I look down and say, "Oh, is this it?" it was just sitting right by my foot. that was hilarious to us. we finish smoking, eat our edibles and head inside. we're way too high by the time we find our seats. everything from then on is kind of a blur. muse put on a really good show, everything ruled. we had really good seats, holy shit. matt bellamy is such a babe. the show ends, our ears are buzzing, our mouths too dry. we walk out into the parking lot, only to realize - we have no idea where we parked. and the parking lot wraps around the whole building. we walked around for an hour, I think. finally we found it, then got sort of lost again on the way home. it's like dumb and dumber, I enjoy it too much.

On sunday, we leave to san diego a little after four. we arrive at the college a little before six, not bad at all. but then we get lost around in the college, because it's really confusing. it's like a mini-universe. we were so lost walking around. finally we find the right parking structure, so we smoke and head into the arena. it was a smaller show than I was expecting, but who's complaining. the pixies were awesome, they sounded great. I never thought I'd see the pixies, so that's fucking cool.

I don't really have that much money. I'm trying not to think about it. because every time I do, my heart beats faster and I feel worse.

I guess I have a lot more to say, but I don't have the energy now. I lost it, I'm over it.

synonyms

But I could read a book a night before this year

and I knew every word, their definitions clear

But now in stealth, I check thesaurus - it's become my guilty mistress

lights are flashing, cars are crashing

I ask a lot of questions, to put it simply.

I know it's annoying to those I ask, but I have to. I'm not too forgetful, my memory is still intact. I just need confirmation. I know others find it sad that I can't complete an application on my own. or that I force my mom to sniff and drink the milk before I do. or that I bite both sides of the bagel to decide which one I want to save for last. or that I constantly google words and phrases because I want to make sure they're logical and correct. I can't even do a load of laundry by myself without calling someone or begging them to come into the garage and show me, even though they have millions of times before. I do all these annoying things, but you don't understand - it annoys me, too.

Anxiety floods my body, I overanalyze and read too much into things. I constantly worry, and I am almost always uneasy. I can't help it. I need someone to assure me, I need the validity. I'm not stupid, I understand the questions I'm asking you. and they may appear redundant, or pointless. I just want to hear you say it again.

While writing this post, I googled seven times to confirm thoughts and words. Trust me, I know. it's sad.

at the end of my rope

I worked tonight. My arms are so sore, I actually worked. and now I'm exhausted. I'm so weak lately, it's such a bummer. I'm still sick, I've been sick forever now.

I can't stop listening to say anything. I just can't. I have all these phases, and now I only want to hear max bemis sing to me. a few weeks ago, I couldn't stop listening to bright eyes. I just really enjoy max bemis and conor oberst's lyrics. I love the way they intricately tell stories, I get so hooked. conor's raw voice singing about his drug problems, hate and love life gives me chills. and listening to max's broken heart sing about drugs and his bipolar disorder is just addicting. I love music. I enjoy doing absolutely nothing and listening to my favorite songs.

I just smoked to do homework and to cure my headache, but now I'm thinking of doing other things. I'll be up late, I know it.

I need to stop procrastinating as much as I do. I rarely sleep, I am easily woken up by the smallest noise. and boots wakes me up early every morning, every hour. I take naps here and there. I'm up all night finishing homework for class the next day, or coming home late from driving to different cities. I was only scheduled one day a week, that was sad. applying for new jobs, definitely. I need money, bad. my moods are up and down. I'm so damn tired all the time, it gets difficult to stay positive sometimes. I have all these ideas and dreams, but I lack the skill to even come close.

I'm just so damn busy lately. I never used to be busy. I was always available, always here, in my room. just passing the time. and now, I'm here and there. I'm all over. I'm busy. it's just weird. and tiring. and sometimes annoying. and stressful. and confusing.

but I'm also very happy. I find comfort laying in bed with someone, entwining our fingers over and over. talking in my car, enjoying the noise along with every silent moment.

My mind is all over the place lately. A lot of things are happening. I just need to slow down. breathe. sleep. think. I'm struggling with this, but I'm figuring shit out.

Sort of. I keep closing my eyes, and drifting off into warped states of mind. I didn't mean for things to get twisted. I'm stuck.

weep little lion man

I didn't plan on staying up this late, I was ready to fall asleep and follow my mind somewhere other than this cluttered reality of mine.

Every bone in my body, I feel it. I don't care. I really don't care.

The song is a beautiful song.

I don't care how you feel about it. I don't care how you feel about anything.

Weep for yourself, my man -

you'll never be what is in your heart.

so well, so well, so well rehearsed

Mondays are so exhausting. I'm finally laying in bed, doing nothing. it's really my favorite thing to do. jerry is with me, and he's happy. I locked boots out of my room, and I can hear him crying every so often. I feel like the more he cries, the happier jerry gets. the more boots whines, the more jerry drools. I have to keep jerry happy, he is the main man in my life. I have to let him know, boots will not replace him.

I'm going to turn into that crazy cat lady. but I don't care, I love cats. I just love 'em.

^ I wrote this earlier at 9:47. I got high and completely forgot about this post. eesh.

I had my visual communications class at three, which is really almost two hours of confusion. today was funny, because I was still high from earlier when I went. it was a weird time because the teacher read my thread from the discussion board introducing ourselves, which read,

"My name is Kendall Hebert. This is my first semester at Cypress, and I have no idea what I want to major in. I spend a lot of time with my cats, I work at a movie theatre, and I enjoy photography. See ya guys on Monday."

People laughed as the teacher kept asking, "What does this tell you about kendall? She likes spending time with her cats, okay..." and it was like we were deciphering a code or something. and he pulled up my assignment and people were saying what the images say about me. and then I got asked out after class. I don't know. everything was weird.

I'm too high to sit here and stare at this damn screen. it's burning my eyes.

I don't know what's going on anymore. I think I'm fixing it, I think I have things under control. I think.

with heat to melt these frozen tears

I was thinking.. I love my dad. I love who he is. I heard him yelling earlier during a football game, and he just makes me laugh. and I've been thinking about it a lot lately. I know he's been through a lot and now that I'm older I understand him so much more. He's the funniest person I know.

Okay. just wanted to write it.

also, the true blood finale wasn't as good as I thought it would be. it was great, as usual. but I was so hyped up that by the time I watched it, it was just a little bit of a letdown. I am extremely happy about eric northman though. he is alive and well, and I am fucking happy. I have to wait a whole year for the next season of true blood though. what the hell am I going to do with myself? I'm going to buy the seasons and watch it over and over. and I'm being serious.

tomorrow's school. I'm exhausted. I don't really feel that much better, but I'm not as negative. I'm just so damn tired lately. I worked last night, which was a little painful because of my foot. I didn't realize until tonight that my blood blister turned into a blood bubble. it was just a big, black squishy bubble. so I popped it, and I think I lost a lot of blood. eesh.

I looked down at it right now and realized it had already filled back up with blood. it was another blood bubble. jesus christ. I'm scared to sleep in my white sheets tonight. that would really suck.

okay, I'm getting a headache. going back outside to smoke and cure myself.

fuck. I just realized I have a lot of english homework to do before 6:30 tomorrow.

now I'm pissed again.

why why why

So, everything went from great to shitty.

I started feeling sick a few days ago, and it's gotten worse. I woke up this morning feeling so groggy and numb, my mom even told me I looked like shit.

I went to the doctors yesterday, which is never a pleasant trip. you're supposed to leave feeling better, or at least a little better. I leave feeling shittier than I did walking in there. great, more things wrong with me. they still don't know what it is. I'm almost this, I'm almost that. so close. so close to crying, all the time.

I almost got in trouble with cops the other night, but I got out of that one. phew.

also, earlier today I was washing out the litter box with the hose out front. I was barefoot, like always. I felt this pain on the bottom of my foot, but I had just smoked so I didn't really feel much, and tried to ignore it. then it really started hurting, so I looked and saw blood. sat down, looked real hard, and realize it's a piece of glass lodged in there. fucking great. had to get tweezers and pull it out. even the same foot as my smashed toe. perfect, just perfect!

and today I find out my mom deleted last night's big brother. that sucks.

and I'm also dealing with a personal conflict, it's really frustrating.

I've been in bed all day yesterday and today. beds are the best. such comfort. I like to hide in my bed. all my flaws and moods and negativity is fostered underneath the comfort of my sheets. I try to turn all this negativity into positivity. all of a sudden, it's difficult. I don't see any way out of this.

Everything sucks. why me?

Why is it always "this or that"? Why can't I just settle in between?

Why is it when I reach happiness, that I lose it almost immediately?

I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier

I'm not running on much sleep, I was up all night. different reasons, different moods. sitting on top of my washing machine in the garage at five in the morning.

too little, too much, too late.

I guess today just wasn't a good day. and I'm just not happy right now.

I wish I could write down how I feel, but I just feel...empty. I'm tired of thinking, my head hurts. I've been putting things off, and eventually I couldn't avoid them anymore. I don't know. I just thought I had everything figured out, and I guess I didn't.

Either way, you lose. Either way, I lose.

stuttering sentences

I am exhausted. yesterday I went to fuck yeah fest, and died. a few times. waiting in the heat outside in LA at two in the afternoon, high as shit, complete cotton mouth. it killed me. but then we got inside and things got better. we ate, got high, sat for a while. enjoyed the hipsters and music. 'twas fun. cassie and I were so fucking excited for dead man's bones. it still gets me excited just thinking about it. I saw ryan gosling, so close...fuck. that band. his voice. his face. what a dreeeaaaaam.

I smashed my toe in the door a few days ago. that fucking sucked. it was right after I had smoked, and gotten way too high. I don't know why I closed the door as hard as I did, but I really swung that shit. I was pretty numb so I waited a while, and eventually the pain hit me. I always hurt my goddamn feet, it sucks. I've had rocks and wood stuck all the way through the inside of my toenail, I've had my foot ran over and the skin on my heel ripped off, almost every time I hit my foot on something I basically rip a toenail off, I've tripped and tore off the skin on my big toe from nails in the floor, etc etc etc. I'm a magnet to this kind of crap, I hate it.

so today I decided to lay in bed all day. I've been pretty successful. I've been in the living room a few times, watched tv, ate a few donuts, a bagel. I am so tired. I'm just sore and drained, just want to continue to lay in bed. been getting high and lounging around.

earlier I had smoked enough to chill for a few hours, and as I'm walking to my room to get comfy, my mom calls me into her room to help her with something. she asks me to bring my laptop. from there she proceeds to ask me questions to type into google. I couldn't breathe from how hard I was laughing. she was taking some sort of test, and these were some of the questions.

"who named time as the fourth dimension", "are electronic watches able to serve as game boards", "are electronic watches able to encode captions", "why are there seven days of the week", "what is a nanosecond", "is the evolution of time keeping related to basket weaving" (the fuck?), "what are patterns of activity for plants and animals referred to as", "why is december called december", "is time one of the world's deepest mysteries", "is white chocolate pure chocolate", "what is the name of bermuda's daily newspaper", and "how many time zones are there" .... what the hell kind of test is that?

I am so tired. I think I just might fall asleep soon. today was nice because I was a bum all day, but it also sucked because I spent an hour sobbing in my pillows. we'll see how this plays out. I have homework to do tomorrow. I need to go to petsmart. I'm hanging with ashley and going to panera bread. panera bread heals all wounds.

shit was crazy

It's 2 in the afternoon, and I just woke up from a really ridiculous dream. in the beginning part of it, I was with ashley and we were around the block somewhere, at like three in the morning. there was a bunch of asian guys that were really into photography I guess and we were all hanging out. I don't know, it was strange. but then it turned into like a party in the street, and the cops were bound to come, so ashley and I walked back to my house. walking down my street, my dad's truck is parked in the street, and I see my mom in there. she's listening to journey I think, and it was really loud. and she got out and we started talking and we walked back to the house.

my dream was interrupted by my sister and mom yelling at each other right outside my door. eventually fell back asleep. from there, I had faked being crazy to get a card to be able to enter some sort of sane asylum for birth control. yeah, I guess they give free birth control. I had brought cassie with me, and we ran around the halls and were being followed by a bunch of crazy people. we run into one room, where a bunch of crazies were sitting around, almost like a group meeting. this one guy leaning against the wall had started smoking a cigarette and was like, "I'm terry, and I quit smoking a year ago!" and all the crazies were going crazy. cassie had walked out because she wanted to go do something else, then all of a sudden ashley was next to me. so we were sitting there watching all these people say the funniest shit, and we were having a good time. I look over to my left and I see our friend abe from work, and I ask ashley, "is that abe!?" and she says, "yeah, he brought his girlfriend." and we laughed about it. then I saw another friend from work, michael cruz, who was talking to the instructor of the group, which happened to be james frain, franklin from true blood. I fucking freaked out and got super excited, and ran over to talk to him. I was like "hi franklin!! haha, I swear I'm not crazy" and he was like "you're not? oh that's interesting", but I don't know if he cared. I was trying really hard to talk to him, and I asked him for a picture, and he took one with me. I was holding him like we had just gotten married. our conversation was awkward and his accent was so hot. but he thought I was crazy so he eventually left. what the hell.

my dreams lately are fucking weird. I need to stop smoking before bed.

some sad singers, they just play tragic

I feel so exhausted. every bone in my body aches right now.

I am being overdramatic. but seriously. I'm dead.

I passed out at four in the morning. woke up to boots crying to get out of my room at 6:30 cause he heard my dad in the kitchen. kicked him out, fell asleep. dad puts boots back in my room at seven, he cries some more. fall asleep. wake up to my annoying ass alarm clock at 8:30. start studying chapter one for my computer information system class. pass out for another hour. wake up at 9:30, study some more. get ready for class, leave at 10:27. search aimlessly for parking for twenty minutes. start walking to class and get stopped by some southern fat chick who wants me to give my card information for cheap hair shit. yeah no thanks. ten minutes later I squeeze out real fast and rush to class. sit in my assigned seat, which is number 69. not kidding. review chapter one real fast, then head to the computer lab to take the quiz. scored a 48 out of 60. still can't remember how to figure out what letter grade that would be, and too lazy to google it. left and got in my car, drove to the theatre and picked up my check from last friday. $235...yes please. drive to the atm, realize I don't have my card. drive home, run in and grab it, drive back to the atm. deposit it into my account. withdrawal $20. head over to quizno's to celebrate, buy two large sandwiches for me and my sis. head home, smoke, eat, watch the soap. did a load of laundry myself, which was actually hard. I don't like it. I wanted to nap but I had homework still for my class at 6. read the assigned twenty pages of my art history book, wrote the response to the study question. re-curled my hair. drove back over to school, got another shitty parking spot, but not as bad this time. waited around for fifteen minutes outside the classroom door. teacher came, sat down. learned a shitload of information again, this teacher rules. fell asleep for a little though, then had a spasm attack and woke myself up and embarrassed myself, I'm sure. got assigned to repaint the ghent altarpiece but with tiger woods. stoked. rush out of class, head over to pick up some weed. smoke, head home. rush in the door, tell my mom I'm leaving again, because I had a date with josh. she yells, "No, you're staying home! that goddamn cat has been bothering us all night and ariel's spraying now. you have to stay home and watch him or take him with you, but don't leave him with me." I'm super bummed, have to tell josh. boots is running around and going apeshit, bothering the other cats and my parents. lock him in my room with me where he immediately passes out. video chat with ashley, lurk on facebook for a bit. clean my room a little, but I got too lazy. then my mom came in my room and sat on my bed and we talked about art, how much I'm really interested in it and how my great uncle is a totally famous painter. an hour goes by and we're still talking about really cool shit. it was a really sweet talk. I smoked outside, then she joined me. we started watching big brother, so I wanted to eat something. made an easymac, shit was delicious. decided I was still hungry and searched for dessert. I spotted these oatmeal cookies in an unopened package. I've been fighting myself not to eat them for the past month because they've been sitting there, and I thought they were my dad's, because he's the only person who really eats cookies in this house. so I tell my mom and she says, "Oh, they're not his cookies, I bought those and no one's even touched them, I was gonna throw them out." the angels sing and I do a happy dance. pour a glass of milk, grab the whole package of cookies, sit on the couch and nomnomnom 'til I can't nom anymore. boots sits next to me and starts making the weirdest face, where his eyes were like squinted and droopy. I realize he's taking a piss right there on the leather couch. I kick him off and my mom gets pissed and I can't help but laugh. then I think about it and realize we need new kitty litter, so I need to go to the store tomorrow, definitely. boots is still going crazy at this point, running around, jumping off walls and being a ninja. my mom and I are watching big brother and all of a sudden the tv turns off. boots is playing behind it with all the cords and he unplugged something. I have to squeeze behind the tv and sit there and fuck with all these goddamn cords and kick him away at the same time cause he keeps trying to play and grab them and I'm looking and looking, and finally see where the cord goes. fix the issue, squeeze back out of there. finish watching the episode. grab boots and head to my room, close the door. get in bed. facebook lurk, blog. you are here.

discussing art with my mom really pushed me into considering pursuing something in that realm. I wish I was talented with my hands, I have so much I'd like to just...let go. it's what I've always wanted, but it was always so hard for me to say. speaking verbally, I choke up and become reserved, which is unfortunate because all I have are thoughts and ideas. I know how intelligent I am and it bothers me that it can't expand past my tongue. I can't express my thoughts verbally like I wish I could. it's easy for me to sit here at my computer and open up completely and let my fingers run wild, because there are no barriers here. the idea of a backspace button really pleases me.

I do talk a lot but my sentences are coated with occasional sarcasm or I'm spewing satirical comments directed at you or someone close by. or, I am comfortable with you, which means I'm having a good time. and that's with my friends. I love my friends. I really do. I've realized that lately. I used to not have any friends, and now, I've come to realize all the ones I care about, are here. they're close enough. and we get high. and we eat. and we drive around. and we go bowling. and we go to shows. and we play beer pong. and we get drunk. and we have funny conversations online. and we listen to good tunes, and have good times. I'm just having good times lately. I've moved on to individualism. I'm feeling good.

I'm scheduled at 10 tonight for the midnight showings of going the distance, machete, and the american. bleh. then on friday I'm picking josh up from work, smoking, and eating pizza. fuck yeah. saturday, I'm calling in to work and going to fuck yeah fest with ryan and kevin, I believe. work sunday 1-6. no school on monday, ashley's coming down. getting high, going to panera bread. yada yada yada. life continues on, etc.

true blood isn't on this sunday. they're skipping a week for the last episode. the last one. I can't handle that. it can't be over. a whole year...without true blood? I don't think I can make it. I'm just going to watch the first three seasons over and over 'til it's on again. /wrists all day.

I know people say smoking weed makes you lazy...and they're right. it totally does. I can be very fucking lazy. but it's not like I wasn't already. and it's not like I don't enjoy it. I'd be a homebody all day every day, if I didn't feel so pressured by society to be so...productive. I love laying around all day. I love sleeping. I love doing nothing. the thing is - when I get that gust of energy that tells me, "Hey, you should get your ass up and be productive today. clean your room, take a shower, hang out with your friends. go do shit." - I really do go do shit. I get up, and I go out. and I come home late, and I pass out late. and it starts all over again.

it's fucking 3:30 in the morning. why do I always do this to myself? I don't know.

my eyeballs are on fire. they really are. I think I'll pass out now.

god damn you, how you stay

I watch this dude, each night, same table, who creates and crumples up. His eyes are wide from sipping endlessly his endless coffee cup. He feeds me quotes, that lonely goat. I watch him grazing by himself. I will not stop him when he rambles - I'm becoming one myself.