Bitter Beyond Belief

I was inspired after reading a blog on 41 things to bitter about, ( not like I needed any encouragement) so though I could rant for days
below is my list. I chose #23 because I am 23 and a list of 10 or 15 is too short for a bitter rant. Enjoy.

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1. Gum. Biggest scam at 7Eleven, flavor only worth the first 5 seconds you chew it THEN you can’t even eat it.

2. Insurance. it’s truly a legal gang. You have to get it, they got your back and you owe them for the rest of your life.

3. Plastic knives. Only good for butter. Congratulations on that patent.

4. Bars. I swear its therapy for everyone who gave up on going to the gym or seeing their therapist named Jim.

5. Medicine. Have like 150 side effects when you only had one problem. Is anyone else weighing the odds.

6. Sweat. It lets you know your doing something right but that you’re also doing something wrong.

7. Pantyhose. Challenges you to be graceful, but you try to close your legs and they still run. You just can’t win.

8. Veggie meat. You either like meat or you don’t. Veggie meat will never taste like meat.

9. Toe nails. What are they protecting because my toes still hurt when they hit something.

10. Stretch marks. Whether your thick or petite, they are Inevitable.

11. Umbrellas. You will still get wet.

12. Curbs. I always trip on a curb without a descending slope. Can’t just enjoy a conversation walking down the street without worrying about the next curb.

13. Voicemail. A double notification that someone wants to talk to you. I got it the first time.

14. Public bathrooms. Need I say more…

15. People who talk on long bus rides. A NNOYING.

16. Nametags. Nobody cares to know the guys name that rung up your groceries. Unless he’s hot, but then its creepy that you know it and he never told you…

17. Timers. They remind you your running out of time, so you waste time panicking.

18. Cards. Are you supposed to keep all of them and then what.

19. Drapes. Defeats the purpose of having a window.

20. Name Tattoos. Everyone that needs to know you love your mom, knows it. A tattoo will not prove you love her more.

21. Automatic toilet flushers. I hate splashy surprise flushes. Disgusting.

22. Poofy Vest. It’s like cheating you out of a winter coat.

23. Hospital beds. After all these years… They’re uncomfortable purposely so you don’t stay long.

Be A Voice Not A Label

People who say they know me, probably really don’t. People who think they know me probably really do. Just believe and duly note that your confidence in who you think I am, is appreciated. Those who are more knowledgeable than me and God on who I’m becoming, I have briefly acknowledged your wisdom. Yet, every voice has been heard, seriously. Even if it was sent straight to voicemail, or trash. As long as the introduction to your philosophy holds substance I do listen halfheartedly.

Its amazing how great the difference is between love and hate yet they hold the same amount of energy and passion when delivered. Love me. Hate me. Both emotions I have felt and expressed to myself. Your passion only holds a mirror to yourself and how you view and value the lives of people around you.

Today’s thought was brought to you in part by drunkenness, an eager mind, and a phone call with my biological father. And also, viewers like you.

Apologies

“Im sorry.” A never-ending apology, I’m sure, yet sincere. Apologizing for being sad, when you are clinically diagnosed with depression is equivalent to a person with sickle cell apologizing for being in pain. Its pointless. Your diagnosis is not who you are but an “unremovable piece” of who you are. Don’t get me wrong, that “unremovable piece” can grow and consume you.

Some days you win, some days you lose. But before I stress about losing someone, or missing social occasions, I worry more about losing myself. Sometimes I can’t tell if my decisions are influenced by my mood or by me. Am I making any sense? Can anybody hear me? Because I don’t, sometimes I just don’t….

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I’ve been thinking about a previous post in which I tried to convey that people having long-term “unremovable piece”‘s or dilemmas should live in their misery alone. I’m glad I’m recognizing the stupidity in my mentality now rather than later.

But I wrote that post not out of genuine belief but out of fear. Fear of someone giving up on me, and not being able to bear my “unremovable piece,”  and constantly being misunderstood. Hell, I can hardly understand myself. So if you can’t understand me, I can’t apologize…

Where Am I

Where am I? Where am I..A question and also a pondering  thought .I guess can answer

both.

Currently, I am in a bed that’s not my own or rented. I did not have sex in this bed. I have not had sex in four months. TMI*, I get it, so hopefully it ends there. . But I must continue the confession of where I lay. And right now I’m laying in a bed of bad karma.

Before I left for Jersey, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to be more sociable. Instead I found myself entering a private affair. I started spending a lot of personal time with someone I fancied inside and out. As time progressed, I quickly introduced him to my mind, body, and soul expecting him to run immediately. (Perhaps I like the easy way out).Either way, he wasn’t frightened by my messy world. I think he was more saddened in knowing my mind is at war with itself, my work is a mix of stress and release, and my body is reluctant yet eager all at the same damn time!

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Yes, I have more issues than Vogue! And in due time, with GREAT effort, I know it will work itself out. And the great effort is not going to come from a man. It’s going to come from me. There is a saying that misery loves company. It is true. When I’m miserable, I go find my friend Rumplemints and Black N Mild and lock myself in a bathroom. This is the company I want right now.. Why? Because it is time to leave. Misery loves company and I feel as though if I stay I would make him miserable. His only struggle is to see me smile, seriously. I look in his eyes and see his willingness to love. Then I bite my lip, and close my eyes tight wishing I had just finished loving myself a lot sooner, so I could give him more. But its not possible. Shame on me. And yet, I still continue to lay in this bed of bad karma.. (at least for another hour or so).

*TMI means Too Much Information