I had a dream that the world was shifting under my feet; that everything was shaking, screams lighting up across the sky.

I dreamt that I stood in the hollow of a vally as it transformed heaving, into a mountain- with only a mind shattering screech echoing in my head to prove it had ever been anything but the newly minted peak.

There was death in my dream. Not just mine; but the deaths of many. Mothers, fathers. Lovers, spinsters, and the damned. We all died the same way. It amazed me, dream me- that death was the same equilizer as birth had been. We all were born the same way- setting and timing aside. We all die.

It wasn't a scary dream. It was hardly even a nightmare.
It was cold.

Cold, when I woke.

It was cold with the realization that one day I would move my valley to the top of a mountain. And from there I could see everything ending.

I woke knoing that one day, I will have all of my answers.
-

Everything is up in the air. I am so swamped with my current job- and yet not doing my job. My part time job getting needlessly stressful.

I am waiting to hear if I got the Big Brother's Big Sister's position. I want it. I don't want to leave. I need change, and fear it. FUCK. I AM A COWARD.

Such a coward.
-

'Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal.'

I am tired.

Tired of people doing nothing but talking about change. Beaurocracy has been here since the dawn of organized society. Our schools are a disgrace. Our kids are killing themselves faster than the obesity can.

Why would we change what ain't broke?
It is broken.

Society isn't benefitting anyone.
Except it allows us to stay fat and lazy.

I work. I work. I work. I volunteer.
I work.

'Mine is an evil laugh.'
-

So. Halloween, huh?



I have a top hat, and I have tails.
Fishnets, and a corset that makes my tits capable of making Sir Isaac Newton weep.
I hope I do Zatanna justice.

The only sadness in dressing like the enchantress, and mistress of magic herself is- people will only know I am dressed as a
'sexy magician'

Injustice.

And yet- I suppose... in my mid-twenties- I shouldn't be so enraptured by comic books, and the beautiful references they lend.
I'm nearly done reading A Song of Fire and Ice.
I'm killing time.
Procrastinating on my application for a fringe show.

Life creeps forward.
-

My life is becoming full.
I am so close to having to empty my life inbox it is nearly deafening.

I have so many things on the go.
Busy, busy, stagnant.
Rinse, lather, repeat.

My stress levels skyrocket so high- I just... I find I have more coping mechanisms than I know what to deal with. I am an orstrich with my head in the sand, and I am a bear with its' mouth covered in blood.

I play a dangerous game with myself. I live for my downtime. Work is meaningless and mostly an enabler for my laziness.

I want to crotchet, read my bloodlust novels, write my feeling down on paper, drink my tea, watch senseless amounts of shit on television. I am happy at home- happy but I swear my family can smell it and like sharks in the water...

-are after me.

Their stresses, and strains suffocate me. They fuel my indifference and blatent apathy.

Save me?
Throw me a big fucking neon lifering and drag me back to a world where I am capable of empathy.
-

Many thing.
I don't often like to hate, but today seems to be the crankybitchysick day.
So I will allow myself today to rant.

Locked doors when you're sitting in the living room. Your two volumes; angry and yelling. Your inability to use common logic.

I refuse to talk about it anymore.
The more I talk about your dumb,loud, cunt ass. The more I seeth.

Worst lifechoice ever.
-

Thisbe.
-

Stomach churning.
By gaslight burning.
I need this day to end.
---


Ever feel like your significant other is cheating on you- for no real reason? Now, before you agree; and tell me that my feelings are likely correct. Allow me to explain.

I am not talking about the beautiful boy that shares my bed. I am not talking about he with his unexpected holds, and sweetness.

I talk about fiction. I feel like life is cheating on me.
With what?
My younger, more dazzling twin? My life has changed drastically. Again. I am living with Exspensive. Everything is good- well... most everything. Work is meh. Money is meh. And oddly enough, my only complaint (Besides people not paying me back monies) is that I miss her.

The time zones are enough to kill me. It's odd.
My co-dependence normally doesn't hold this long.
I miss her. I hate Korea. I hate Korea.
And car insurance.
---

The pallid spew of colour,
by the graying light grows duller,
I need this day to end.
-

FUCKSHITCUNTASSHOLE.


I have a truck. Its not my fault.
They are too cheap to pay for my parking so they force me to park in the smallest fucking place.

AND THEN THEY YELL BECAUSE I AM PARKED LIKE A DOUCHE.

I HAVE NO CHOICE.

I SHAKE WITH RAGE- SHAKING WITH RAGE.
GAH.

-Jeannie is in labour and I am the one panicking-
PANIC
YELLYELLSCREAMPOUTYELL

I am hungry and impatient and I WANT IT TO BE MY BIRTHDAY.
...
Which.
Is tomorrow.

As I age, I get crankier.
-

Or the satelites.

I'm not picky.

I'm excited for my new job. It will be a change of pace if nothing else. I am bored at work again. No youth in what, weeks?

I've gotten in to a routine of being paid to watch an episode fo Doctor Who and spend copius amounts of time devoted to my writing.

It is growing. I am growing. I look forward to one day being able to say that everything has worked out well.

The boy is taking measures to be a good boy.
He even washed dishes last night, and made me dessert whilst I watched SVU.
I enjoy him, I wouldn't trade him in.

Mostly.
Mostly I want kettle corn, cold tea, and to learn how to do a convincing British accent.
Me with the unending wants.
-

To lose someone in your life is exhausting.

Death isn't an easy aquaintance, it seems as soon as you get to know its' cold icy hands, it's always knocking on your door.

I am exhausted. I am depleted. i am hopeful.

I have a disgusting need to ink my body- and not the funds to do so. Perhaps in the fall.

My life is a flailing thing.
I am incredibly... indifferent.

The man in my life and I talked last night. I love him. I won't tell him just yet- but I do. We are trying this fun new thing called financial accountability.

Budgets.
Sounds like fun, huh kids?

I see the future. It is a bright, and overwhelming place.

Are you there God,
It's me Andrea.
-

I am so frustrated. Car accident in which I was not at fault and now that stupid bitch is claiming I didn't stop. Lady. You have full coverage. It was icy. ICY. Why are you not taking responsibilty.

Its only me that gets fucked. Face down, ass up.

Turns out thats' the way the fucking world loves to see me.

I have no car- overwhelming debt. I am losing it. LOSING IT. Losing my motherfucking mind. This is the most expensive month of the year and everything is crashing down hard. FUCK. Please give me a chance to catch up. I really wouldn't be opposed to vasnishing.

POOF

Gone. I just need it to balance.
-

Both figuratively and literally.

I am a creature of habit- I like schedules, and routines. I like being places where I feel comfortable- and I like have a cemented support system. My awkward tendancies leave me feeling stressed; this move is going to kill me.

I feel alienated at work.

I feel insecure in myself.

I feel.

I feel less apathetic than ever- which is terrifying in and of itself. Feeling leads to feeling depressed. Right? Or is this how life is supposed to be? Why is this so much stress. Why can't I be one of those people that can just go with the flow- who just adapt with changes and embrace it.

Someone once told me that change is neither good, nor bad. Change simply is.

Somehow it made me feel better- but now the ambiguity...

...its too much.
-

I am beyond irritated.
So fucking irritated.
I am tired of payments bouncing, and bills not getting paid. I am slowly breaking into a million peices because I owe so much damn money.

Telus, Bell, TD Insurance, Rent, VISA, VISA, Rogers, Shaw, EPCOR.

Paycheck comes, and its gone before it touches my bank account. I can't afford to eat. Let alone pay down my debt. Gas in my car? A luxury I cannot afford.

I am drowning. I am drowning.
And it seems like every step forward I take, another brick fucking wall gets thrown in my face.

Fuck me.
Fuck me.
Fuck me.
-

I am caught up in a world in which completely consumes me.

It is fictional.

It is filled with drama and heartbreak.
Fear, and death.
Hurt, hope and hard-feelings.

My head is split seven ways. And it hurts.
It hurts so badly.

My butt is wet. My car is free. My head is FUCKED.
-

I'm finally feeling good about Christmas.
I feel like I'll make it.

Everything will be okay- I will be able to survive the new year.
I forgot how much I miss the old staff at work- this week has been greatly needed. Filled with dildo zuchinni's, asian pyrogies, 'chocolate rain', watching movies, free food, and the general consensus that the new staff suck.

I love Charlie Brown's Christmas. I feel like I somehow wish for a CB Christmas everyyear and then get too wrapped up in the commercialism of it all.

This year I have no tree. I have no real solid Christmas.

I am divided to fifty different family functions with my factioned family.
I am torn and twisted.
I am pleased at the amount of free food I shall have.

I am irresponsible, and have too many options.
I am hiding from finishing my Christmas shopping.
I really need to sort me out.

Santa. This year- all I want is some self-clarity. Some clear self-reflection.
Please Santa...

-

Everytime I login in- and yet- when I think about deleting my account, making a new one and forgiving the wreck that I used to be- and still am...

I can't do it.

I am confused about what the next four months will hold. I am cold- and fuzzy.


Everything seems like it will pan out and then- I can't help but worry about the ramifications of my actions if I go through with things. It just seems so...

Easy? And yet like such a cop-out.
I fear change- and this is the biggest problem.

I am avoiding going home because it is so filthy I don't know where to start cleaning- and I can't sit there and just leave it and so... I stay out late and only come home to sleep. Or sleep on friends couches. Or the fiends' bed.
I want a Christmas tree.

I want shiny lights.
I want.
I want not to want anymore.
-

It doesn't feel like Christmas. I really want a tree. I miss lights and a clean house and soft shitty jazzy Christmas music. I miss having proper snow.

I am just so...

Not in the Christmas spirit. I am happy though. I feel like everything is slowly falling apart. Falling apart and into a jumbled heap of sense.

I think I know what I'm gonna have to do.
I dream of a quiet one bedroom house, with a Christmas Tree and no cat to mulitate boxsprings, and toilet paper. No more kitty litter pieces on my bed...

I am tired. I am fighting. I am.
A poinsetta.
Beautiful to look at- toxic to eat.
-

Words mean nothing.

Especially when those words aren't even spoken.
-

What the fuck.


I am so angry. I am SO ANGRY. SO MOTHERFUCKING ANGRY.

Crying doesn't even make it feel better. I am so fucking tired of this. I wish people would stop fuckig talking. I'm tired of being happy for people who could give a flying fuck if I even exist. I'm tired of EXPLAINING my sorry ass to EVERYONE.

I am fine. I will BE fine. FINEFINEFINEFINEFINEFINEFINEFINEFINEFINEFINEFINEFINISHEDFINE.

LEAVE ME ALONE.

Except you.

You owe me. A life, a story, a kiss, a fucking happily ever after. Sex and Candy. Thats' what my life has turned into.

Sweat and Sugar.

Calories and curled fists.

I am premenstral. That would explain the fucking tears, and the hatred. Noone can do anything right. I'm tired of the filthy apartment, and I want stability. I want two years ago.

Blissful ignorance.

I miss living a life uninterrupted.
-

Now I made this bed and I can't fall asleep in it.

---------


I am exhausted. And I have seemingly given up the fight. The ability to fight for injustice. I just simply live. I wake up, go to work, eat, go home, eat, see the boy that is mildly indifferent, go to bed alone.

I live in the eye of the storm, living a life that is neither fantastic, nor horrific. I would like to say that I am happy, but I'm slowly becoming fed up. I'm tired of all these stupid expectations.

I want to go home at the end of a shitty day and partake in some bed shaking. I long to walk around stark naked. I desire to be admired, and to do the things I like without fear of judgement.

Reading my shitty comic books

Drinking my sugarfree hot cider

Watching silly depressing movies

Listening to my music

Playing silly RPG videogames

I want. I want. I WANT. WANTWANTWANWTAWATWNAWNANWANT.

I want sleep. I want new tires. I want sex. I want solitude and friendship and acceptance and hesitations and no more debt and bigger paychecks and Fantastia and Chicken Noodle Soup and love.

Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the positive...
-

• style my hair as I would like it, as naturally as possible
  
• not wear makeup, with the exception of eyeliner and/or mascara (when I am in the mood)
  
• not wear accessories that are made using animal products (such as leather, wool, or fur)
  
• avoid products that are made in places in which wage slavery is used
  

It seems like I don't have anything world altering, or thrilling to share. I feel like my life should be snappier.

We live in a world of Current Facebook Updates, and Tweets and yet my life just plods along.

Unlike high school self, sort-of-grown-up-self is not thrilled by every wayward glance, nor is she half as hopeful for a perfect relationship, and no financial worries, and a beautiful home and a great job and the right clothes. She is more realistic than that.

She doesn't have a snappy update for twitter every hour on the hour. Her facebook profile doesn't make me happy, nor sad.

I am average. She is average. Average. Why is that word so devastating? So- unsettling? And yet, if average is just that... then by standard... what is extraordinary?

I am not special. Not really. My interests, my knowledge, is shared by hundreds. Likely more than that. My genetics are slightly unique, but I am just parts of others.

I am me. Which happens to be pretty average.
Perhaps a little more introverted than most.
But wholly uninteresting.
-