What Am I Going To Type Today? Syndication Tue, 07 Jun 2011 18:48:29 +0000 thenewsletter@mygoth.com (Goth Forum | MyGoth.com) IP.Blog 60
I also realize that nobody reads this shit, so why do I bother?

I guess I'm just looking for some kind of outlet. I get bored so easily these days, and don't know what the hell I'm supposed to be doing. I shouldn't be living like this...

Last night, I got some really really reall REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY good advice from the father of one my roomies. He told me he's going to get me a job in the roofing business. He also said that I don't have to decide what to do with my life RIGHT NOW. I can wait a few years. In the meantime, I'm supposed to put away at least half of ever paycheck I make, and just save it. The rest will buy what I need and pay my bills, and if there's anything left over, that will be my "sanity money". Using this method, I'll make a lot of money in just a few years. He told me that as long as I have a good job (such as roofing), I'll be able to afford this method.

I don't know why I bother writing all of this. Most of the stuff I type, I never tell anyone else. I feel as if my life is nobody's business, not a single part of it.... But then I just gush shit out online to people I don't even know...

If things don't pick up for me, then I might have to go home..... To my mother....

If that happens, I may just swallow a bullet. I don't want to go home. I want to live on my own, not with four idiots that are almost bigger bums than I am. I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M SUPPOSED TO DO NEXT, AND THIS WHOLE THING IS KILLING ME.

Joey told me the other day that I looked sick... I do feel weak. I'm losing weight, despite my enormous intake of food, and I don't know why.

I'm trying to move forward, and this roofing job will really help me get out of this rut... But it's not a definite deal. There's a chance I won't get it... If I don't, I'll just keep looking for work.

That's all I can do right now...]]> Wed, 13 May 2009 18:33:00 +0000
I neither know, nor care. I do know that THINGS have changed... circumstances, place, reasons.

But I refuse to believe that I am a different person.

All things considered, I know that I now do things differently, say things differently, and perhaps view the world differently (apparently love and hate are actually completely different... who knew?), but for the most part, I'm still the same me....

I hate that fact.

I wish I couldv'e done things a bit differently... Perhaps blended in with the crowd more often than I did. There were times when I was picked out of large crowds because I was just dressed different. Other times, I blended in perfectly.

I've done horrible things. Some accidents, some not. A few have ended with either me or another person being seriously injured. Once, somebody died. While it's not counted as murder, and no longer counted as manslaughter, these accusations run through my head all the time. I know it was my fault, and I'm sorry for that. It was an accident. I didn't mean to do it.

I have multiple scars. Some big, many small, all of which mean something to me. I will admit that some are self-inflicted. I accept the blame for that, but I don't regret it. Things happen for a reason, even if nothing is ever fated to happen.

After all... I have nothing more to lose.]]> Fri, 06 Oct 2006 20:23:00 +0000
Every thing is pretty quiet now.

Probation is almost over.

I turn 17 this Saturday... Woo hoo....??? How much do you want to bet that nobody is going to remember??? Oh well...

My mother is still a raging bitch. I can't change that, but at least now that school has started, I see her less. I've quit drinking and smoking. Some of my friends are actually pissed at that, but fuck them. It's my life, and not theirs.

I don't know how long any of this will last, but I have things to do. Once again, I want everybody to wish me luck, because I think that I'm going to be alone for a while.]]> Fri, 01 Sep 2006 01:32:00 +0000
A lot of people don't want to make their own decisions. They say that they do, but they're too fucking scared. It's much easier to be told what to do. Americans talk so much about being individualistic, but they don't want you to be an individual because if you think for yourself then you're not going to be a part of any trend that they want you to be a part of. They don't want you to think for yourself. They tell you they do so that you're happy and you're stupid and you're sheep. Anybody intelligent enough to realize what America is, is not going to sit around and do nothing about it. They're going to be the same way that I am. They're going to be pissed. These people are artists. These people are musicians. These people are painters, sculpters, drawers, writers. They're taking it out on the world and trying to express it that way. The rest of the world, who are just willing to accept it, are going to be doing their everyday jobs, and they're going to be trapped in a rut, and they're never going to see it until the day they die, and they're gonna be disappointed when they don't go to heaven anyway 'cause they were too stupid to realize that it's not going to happen.

The burden of originality is one that most people don't want to accept. They'd rather sit in front of the TV and let that tell them what they're supposed to like, what they're supposed to buy, and what they're supposed to laugh at. I view my job as being someone who is supposed to piss people off. I don't want to be just one-of-the-guys. I don't want to be just a smiling face you see on television presenting some vapid kind of easily-digestible garbage. I think art is the only thing that's spirtual in the world. And I refuse to forced to believe in other people's interpretations of "God". I don't think anybody should be. No one person can own the copyright to what the word "God" really means.

And that's the type of thing I'm trying to speak out against the most, religion controlling what we see and what we do in our personal lives, even if you're not a part of that religion. Antichrist Superstar[the album] is a challenge really, to traditional morality and it's...to make people question that and make people think about different perspectives.

It's the whole Nietzche philosophy of you are your own God. That's why I debase myself and tell people to say what they believe. I'm saying to them 'You are no different from me'.

So in the end, the word 'Antichrist' ,to me, is the collective disbelief in god.]]> Mon, 22 May 2006 18:26:00 +0000
I'm one of the ones who don't care.

Don't get me wrong... I loved my aunt. Still do.

But a couple months ago, something happened in our family that nobody will ever forget, nor forgive.

And it was my aunt's fault.

My cousin (my aunt's daughter) had a two-year-old child. He was her life. He's dead now, because of my aunt and my grandmother. They were babysitting him one day, and he got into my aunt's painkillers. Everyone agrees that my aunt should have called the paramedics right away. But instead, they tried to cover it up by pouring coffee down his throat, which only made things worse. He had strokes all over his brain, and went completely brain-dead, unable to so much as breathe on his own.

He died a few days later, at Sanford Children's Hospital. My cousin was destroyed by it.

A big investigation was held, and fingers were pointed in two general directions: my aunt, and my grandmother. My aunt couldn't take the pressure. She knew it was her fault, and felt so horrible.

So she killed herself.]]> Fri, 19 May 2006 13:25:00 +0000
"I've been caught in an explosion on an oil rig off shore."
"Shirley can't come to the phone right now, because she has parts of me in her mouth."
"He wasn't expecting what he got, which was a total ass-kicking which broke six of his bones."
"My brother kept all of my guns from the war in Iraq for me while I was in prison."
"Yes, I'm a bit prejudiced. My best friend hates me because he's black."

These are all things that my father has told me about, talked about, and 'done'.

He's is pathological liar. My mother told me that she hoped to the gods that I wasn't impressed...

And believe me... I'm not.

When I said a few posts back that it was good to have him back, I meant it. But at the same time, I know that I can't count on him for the truth at all. Every time he comes over, he has some bullshit story that's perfectly tailored to be amazing and impressive. But he doesn't seem to realize that he's a REALLY bad liar.

It's gotten to the point where Mom can't sit down near him and listen to him talk without getting pissed off.

I think I'm heading that way too...]]> Thu, 18 May 2006 15:05:00 +0000
Down where the shadows meet the earth
The Nameless Ones play a game
And if your shadow gets close to Them
They take away your Name

The people sleep restlessly with distress
They wake in cold sweats and tears
They know the Nameless Ones call them in dreams
The know They spread the fear

The Nameless Ones are not living
But neither are they dead
Their minds are warped and torn apart
Ripped to little tiny shreds

They spread the fear the only way They know how
By eating all of our shadows
That is how They turn us into one of Them
Did you feel the touch that made you oh so shallow?

Now you are a Nameless One
And you play Their deadly game
You must know it by heart now
So come out and steal my Name.]]> Sat, 22 Apr 2006 17:00:00 +0000
In truth, somethingvery huge has happened, and is happening now.

Two weeks ago, I met my birth father for the first time since I was four years old. I don't really know exactly how I felt, but I guess it's kind of cool. He's been over to the house a few times, and we've talked, and played guitar and drums, some board games... He say's that he has a lot to make up for... Lost time (12 years worth) with me and my mother, among other things, is a really big one for him. Everyday, I get a text message from him. He tells me what he's doing and askes how I am for that day.

He's also trying really hard to get back together with my mother. I don't think he has a clue that she moved on years ago. In a way, my father is a big child. He doesn't learn. I'm really happy that he's back in my life, and that he's trying to make amends for abandoning me, but I don't know exactly how long he'll be here. Mom told me that he is the type of person that runs away from uncomfortable situations...

Does that mean that he's going to leave again???

I hope not...

I have a half-brother named Chance, birthed from the same father as me with a different mother. He's four years younger. He lives with his mother in Minnesota. While his mother knows that our father is back, I'm not sure if Chance does. It makes me feel bad, because I get to see him, and Chance doesn't even know him. I have a few memories of our father before he left, as I was four. But Chance couldn't even walk before our father left, so he has none. I remember one day, about six years ago. I believe I had just turned eleven, so Chance would have been six or seven. Chance asked "Big Brother... How are we related? My mom and dad isn't the same as yours." His mother married another man shortly after our father left, as had my mother. I couldn't answer the question. I told him to go play video games, and then went outside and sat alone for a while. I think it was then that I decided that I didn't care if I grew up without a father. I decided that I didn't have a father.

But then I found my father on Facebook...

And I knew that I was wrong. I guess I had some abandonment issues back then, still do now, and only THINK that I've gotten over them...

It was regaining contact with me that made my father decide to move back to South Dakota. He had been living in Louisiana, California, Florida, and a whole other list of places. Coming back was a very sudden thing.

(Wow... I almost started to cry while typing this...)

Since he has come back, I've realized just how much I really have missed him. It's good to have him back. But at the same time, I have to keep my distance for a while. As of yet, he is a total stranger. He said the same thing about me the other day. We have to treat eachother like new friends.

But still............. It's good to have him back...]]> Fri, 21 Apr 2006 16:36:00 +0000
Here goes... (Tell me what you think)

"Whose are these eyes that see
The window through mine own?
Whose are these hands that hold
My own hands, clenching so tightly?

Your beautiful eyes so blue in a field of roses
The flowers say that we are forever together
Yet they wilt and die as I walk towards you
Does that mean that we can never be?

What has made you so distant?
The satin lace in my coffin was white
And is now stained red by your hatred
Why can't I make you happy?"

There's actually about six pages to this poem, and this is just the beginning. If I ever find the flashdrive, I'll probably post the rest. But otherwise, this all I can remember. I wrote this for a special person in my life. She's been through a lot, and I've tried to help her through it.

Leave me comments or messages on what you think. Should I give this to her?]]> Sat, 15 Apr 2006 16:57:00 +0000
As soon as I got to school, this guy started following me around, asking me questions about why I wear what I wear, and do what I do. I ignored him for a few minutes, but then I turned to him and asked him to leave me alone. He called me a faggot, and walked away. I just kinda stood there, and thought 'whatever'.

That didn't affect me too much, because it just doesn't matter to me... But things pile up...

At lunch, if figured out that I had no money. I think that my friend took it all. She asked to borrow a few dollars this morning, and probably took all of it out of my wallet.

Again, not much of a problem. I ate a big breakfast, so I could skip lunch... But wait, there's more...

In class, the computers are all down. Every one of my classes are online on www.apexvs.com, so I couldn't get any work done. That really pissed me off, because I'm really far behind in school, and need to work as hard as I can.

So now, it's gone from bad to worse. But now it's going to go to horrible as soon as I get home, because my father is coming over for a visit, and he and Mom just can't get along. They argue about the stupidest shit, and try to bring me into the middle of it, as if I care who got drunk where and did what with who....

How much do you want to bet that I won't get any sleep tonight???

Wish me luck everyone, and hopefully tomorrow will be better...

Hmm... I think I'll post one of my poems in here tomorrow...]]> Thu, 13 Apr 2006 18:28:00 +0000