I was watching
a special on Joan Rivers
on Netflix.
I like to change my own mind
on a person.. And I did.
In one scene she was crying
because she missed a friend
that had been there since the
beginning.
She said,
I miss having someone to say
do you remember to?!
and he was the last link to
my old life, my memories.
Now, it's as though all of that
means nothing.
Personally,
I have only connected to
words like that while reading
Bukowski,
but I wanted to cry with her
because that is exactly how I
feel.
I have no one left to
reminisce with,
who has been through the same
things with me.

And it makes me sad to know that Joan Rivers died without a single friend to reminisce her life.
And it makes me even more sad to know that I will die the exact same way.

I really don't like that
I have to spend the rest
of my day around people.
I just want to be alone.
I don't wanna talk,
or pretend to smile.
I just want to sit on my
old bed in my old room,
watch Tv and smoke **** with
the window open.
But I can't.
Because none of my stuff
is at home.
Today is moving day.

So, maybe tomorrow.

So.
Technically I've been kicked
out of my first place.
Not on the street because
I couldn't pay the bills,
but because I am not
welcome anymore.
I'm going to try to be back
at my parents by today.
Honestly it's fine.
Just means that now I'll have
a lot more money.
But what does bug me is how
I am so unwelcome everywhere
I go.
I'm sure my parents aren't thrilled
to have me back,
my room mates booted me,
my co-workers pretend I'm
not there,
and my boyfriend doesn't care
that I wasted 30 miles of gas
to pick him up last night,
only to find an empty building,
and no phone call.

But it's all okay.
I tried it out the other day,
and deciding to just "wing it",
worked out pretty well.
I ended up with a 12$ bowl
that changes color,
and a great mood.

So, I have a new plan.

I got a little too high
before work today.
So I'm sitting here,
in my car in the parking lot
trying to sober up my
eye ***** as quickly as I can.
But I'm excited to get back to
work, that weekend was too
looooonnggg.
And there's something comforting
about routine.
Besides my outfit
I look terrible today.
I shoulda washed my hair,
and I shouldn't have gotten
high.
But,

It's a Monday.

I wish the girl sitting next
to me at work would
stop playing with her hair.
It's triggering me so badly.
Unless you have
Trichotillomania,
then you have no idea what it's
like to live with it.  
I'm not feeling sorry for
myself, I'm just being honest.
I'm already constantly
thinking about pulling,
and my bald spot,
so when I see someone else
bring their hands up to
their head,
it's like a reflex.
I do it too.
The most frustrating thing,
is that I can't even say anything.
They wouldn't know what it
is anyway.
They'd say,
Oh, it's just a nervous tick.
Just stop doing that.
Those words have become the
most annoying words in
the English dictionary.

Because I'm NOT nervous!!

Sometimes I can't tell if
I like the way my life is
going or,
if I hate it.
And no matter how much
the hopeless romantic
inside me wants to
see what could be,
I can't get over how it feels
to lay next to him.
And I'm not exactly ready to
let go of the boy who
looks so cute with his hood
up,
and when he is laying there
asleep.
Lately I have began thinking
that comfortable isn't what
I wanted,
but he's not just a boyfriend,
he's my friend,
and I don't have enough of
those here lately.

I can do this.
I can make it through today
without becoming unemployed.
I'm not going to let these
old, unhappy women make
me like them.
Im 19 and at the prime of
my life.
I'll just keep my grind on
and know that I'm a badass,
I am strong,
I am independent,
and I can make it through today
without blowing up.
I'm not going to let them make
me cry,
because one of these days
I'll be able to tell these
people to go **** themselves
and this place.
They're just mad because this
is where they are after
63 years of not doing ****
with their lives,
but when I'm their age,
I'll be a ******* queen
and people like these
will still be jealous of
my fabulous ***.

There are no drugs or
alcohol that can ****
you up as badly
as human emotions.