I've Been Sick...Not Really

I'm sorry I have not blogged in a while, I've been very, very ill.

Not really.

That's a lie. I have actually never felt better.

Except that a man loves me and I don't love him. I've allowed him to love me for months now and I don't know what to do.

His mannerisms irk me to no extent. The smell of his cologne makes me gag.

Worst of all? His kindness makes me want to vomit. Is it wrong that I would like him more if he were abusive?

I would enjoy our sex if he tugged my hair a little harder, pinned me down, bit me.

I fantasize about rape. Is that sick?

I can't bring myself to break up with him because I cannot fathom that I, the most empty person I know, would reject filling, warm, delicious love.

Love so pure and kind that its saccharine flavor makes me sick to my stomach.

Love so thick, like molasseses, that it makes my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth and makes my vomit slide back down to my acid filled stomach.

What is wrong with my heart?

Everyone Thinks I Have A Twin-I Don't

Everyone, my friends, co-workers, and aquantences believe that I have an identical twin who still lives in Greece (where I was born).

My parents divorced when I was a child-True

They couldn’t decide who got custody of their daughters-True (I have an older sister, remember?)

They each chose from a set of identical twins which one they wanted-False

One of us came to the states and the other stayed in Greece-False

I must be a damn good actress because I have convinced people that all of the above are true.

One time I even went to school with a heavy Greek accent pretending to be my twin and people believed me.

None of my ‘friends’ even know me for what I really am-a liar, a manipulator, a sociopath.

I even used a work computer in my office to Photoshop two images of me together!
Sometimes I feel bad about my lies.

Then I realize that people are gullible and that’s their fault, not mine.

Why should my fun and humor suffer because of someone else’s ignorance?

In return, I trust no one and I doubt everyone.

Vampires And Ghouls

How badly do I wish vampires and ghoulies existed?

Very badly.

I need to believe that there is something else out there unexplained by science or fact. As of yet I have found none.

Some people turn to religion and their belief in god, something I find fanciful and silly, thoughts worthy of a 5-year-old writing letters to Santa Clause in hopes of him fulfilling their dream for the newest Barbie dreamhouse.

I never got mine so I stopped believing.

Where is the proof in the so-called “higher power”?

Everything I have seen in my short 25 years has proved to me that science can explain everything.

Some people have told me that having your own child brings you closer to the higher power, which begs the question:

Shouldn’t I love myself before I try to love another creature?

If vampires and ghosts existed, they would be my proof that something bigger than me existed.

I don’t need a good higher power with hopes of salvation, I just need to know that humans are not the highest level of intelligence that this universe will ever see.

If not, maybe we’d all be better off dead.

Doctor, Doctor, Give Me The News!

I have 4 doctor’s appointments in the next month and I could not be more ecstatic.

I love being alone in a room with someone asking me how I feel, what my symptoms are, am I okay?

Maybe it’s narcissistic of me, maybe it’s just human nature.

I mean, women go get mani-pedis, and men get massages, I do neither, I see doctors instead.

Instead of painting over ugly feet or temporarily rubbing out pain, I go to the doctor to get to the root of the problem.

I don’t even mind the awkward examination, even at the eye doctor or gynecologist.
Now I am a very clumsy woman, I end up in the ER 3-4 times per year (falling down the stairs, bronchitis, etc.).

Do I unconsciously do it on purpose?
Probably not, but you never know.

I lied, I'm Not Busy, I Just Don't Like You

I was going to say that I've been busy for the past few weeks and that's why I have not posted anything.

That's a lie. I've been bored at work with nothing to do but too lazy to make the effort to blog.

Does anyone even read this? Probably not, but for some reason it makes me fee connected.

A friend of mine recently had a stomach virus and was telling me how she could not hold down her food, and do you want to know my first thought?

Lukcy! I quickly chided myself for even thinking that, but I cannot deny that I did.

I can't be the only one that thinks like that.

I'm massively unhappy and I live in constant fear, but of what I do not know.

I scare easily, too easily. It's like I'm constantly waiting for something horrible to happen to me.

I'm not unhappy, per se, but I'm not happy either. I am content.

But I've always felt that my life has been a crescendo waiting to climax but never getting there.

The anticipation is killing me.

I'm killing me.

Unhappy

I am supremely unhappy.

That is my lie. I sit here at work counting down the hours until I go to bed. When my alarm shrieks at me in the morning, I don't moan, I sob.

But that's not a lie. Here's the lie:

Life is not a whirlwind fantasy. You cannot just work hard and expect to be happy, let alone get what you want out of life.

Success is NOT 90% perspiration, it's who you know and who you sleep with.

The rich only get richer and the poor only get poorer and there is no Robin Hood to fix that.

There is only you and the knowledge that deep down, no one cares about you. Even when they go above and beyond and help, they only do it for the attention and glory.

People only cry for others for the attention and sympathy they get.

Humans are the least innocent creatures on earth.

One thing that I am happy about: there are no rainbows or happy little elves. No, that would be creepy.

Here's what I don't get: why do I feel this way? Why am I so unhappy?

I am 25-years-old, making good money, don't have an STD, and no chronic illness.

So why am I such a cry baby? Why do I whine like a little brat?

I recently read JK Rowlings commencement speech for Harvard University (http://harvardmagazine.com/go/jkrowling.html.) and it broke my heart.

I began asking myself, "Why aren't I more humbled, more caring, more enlightened?"

And then I realized why--she is a billionaire and I am not.

What is wrong with me?? I think my zoloft's effects are wearing off.

I'm Not Smart

I am clever. I am funny. I am witty.

I am not, however, smart.

But no one believes me. I am not fishing for compliments.

And I have no desire to become smarter.

Actually, I wish I were stupider. Really.

It is so easy to be an idiot. You worry less, you stress less, and your problems are far easier to solve.

I'd wonder:
"Gosh, this door just won't open, *tug tug*....ohhh, it's push, not pull!"

Instead of:
"Where is this election going? On one hand McCain is financial conservative which, with this recession, could me lots of tax cuts, which means more money in my wallet. On the other hand, Obama is socially liberal so I can be a bridesmaid 10 more times at all my gay best friends' weddings! Oh me, oh my, What to do?"

Ignorance truly is bliss. Can I tell you, being stupid seems like the best idea ever! Every accomplishment would feel amazing!

"This jar won't open, damn it! Oh righty tighty, Lefty Loosey! Gosh, I am so smart! I should go on Jeopardy!"

Instead of:
"Why won't my website work. I have to go through ALL of this html code to figure out what little bracket I left out that won't show my video. Ohhh, I put

EMBED
SRC="../graphicssounds/1812over.mid
HEIGHT=60 WIDTH=144>

instead of

EMBED
SRC="../graphics/sounds/1812over.mid"
HEIGHT=60 WIDTH=144>


How could I miss that?? Gosh, I am stupid. Really and truly."