The Hidden Face

For most of my life, I've struggled with people and life, and schizophrenia made it even worse. Part of the problem is that I don't pick up on intentions well, as the goons know. Also, I'm not especially valuable to society. I don't have a job, I don't have a family and I don't have kids. I deviate from what's normal to a lot of people.


Why do I put myself into such a boat? A lot of it has to do with how I was raised and what I went through growing up. My family wasn't poor, poor, but our breadwinner almost died, and we all had to work together to make ends meet. This meant a lot of sacrifice. I was immature about it, not wanting to do it, but hey, I was a stupid teenager.

Anyway, when I didn't have enough, many people looked down upon me, and they treated me like crap, like yelling insults at me from their cars and pretending they were going to hit me. I had to ride my bicycle to school and everywhere, see, I ate lunch after school at home, and I spent lunch time in the library doing homework, as I had to work until one in the morning at times or take care of babies.

I didn't go into the usual cliques in school. I was poorly socialized around males. I wasn't good enough to date anyone, and most people thought I was weird and was in special ed, the end of all social lives.

I took care of babies and worked, so I didn't have time for much. Oh well.

For all this, I have rebelled against society and its mores. I don't know how to be with a man (screwed up on my only real boyfriend), and I know babies are difficult to care for, so I avoid them. I'm also insecure about how events will turn out. What if my kids were in special ed, too? Would they go through what I did? How am I going to keep low employment? I end up everywhere.

Tough Love

Tough love is something we like to see happen to others while we sit comfortably away, denying our own flaws and weaknesses. It has its place, don't get me wrong, but it's also a cliché people enjoy riding on, and it sometimes derails them from reality and into the angry mob.

In my life, I've experienced quite a bit of 'tough love' abuse, not that it's all been. In some environments, it's essential, like the army. However, they know how to use the weapon the right way. People in society use tough love to bash others.

For example, I submitted some writing samples to an online forum, and they weren't actual stories. When I asked people to please stop insulting my character, as well as focusing on my actual sample (if they wanted to focus on me at all), they threw a fit. They claimed I was a baby and needed thicker skin because they had "dared" to question me.

I wasn't insulted, you see. I was annoyed because they were boiling in their own pots of self-deception. I did go on to insult this one woman because she had her eyeballs reversed, and she was only seeing herself. She had a little tantrum and did everything she supposedly "hated."

I did get some good advice on that forum though.

I'll let the rabid continue. Just because someone told "you" that, doesn't mean it applies to everyone else.

I Agree With Putin Here

http://news.yahoo.com/putin-urges-russians-sport-184018382--spt.html;_ylt=AwrC1zFdLkFW5G4A3R7QtDMD;_ylu=X3oDMTByOHZyb21tBGNvbG8DYmYxBHBvcwMxBHZ0aWQDBHNlYwNzcg--

Wonder what Putin is telling his fat, French fan Depardieu... He needs to lay off the wine and cheese.

I know I need to be in better shape. It hurts at first, but once you get used to it. The problem I have now is that I have very, very little motivation to do anything. I will pace my apartment or go get a diet coke.

I tried going to the gym, but I stopped caring in the middle of it.

I was spoiled as a teen. I couldn't afford a car, so I had to ride my bicycle everywhere. To be honest, I was in better shape before I went into the military compared to afterwards. I gained like 20 pounds in Basic Training. That bicycle is still out there, waiting for a day when I recover enough for it.

Currently, I'm on weight watchers, but I'm not exercising enough, and I drink too much diet coke, which causes weight gain as well.

As far as sports go, the only thing I would have been good at was track. When I'm in shape, I'm fast. I was on the bench in soccer for all the important games.

I'm used to this, but I'm burning out.

Wow, I Spread Again

I wrote "Dawn of the Hives" as a joke because all the psychotronic friends lacked direction and are flying all over the place, looking for "threats." (Looking for the easy weak, and I'm used to it.) I must admit that I was proud of my darling book, however: I wrote a book in three days. It's the same feeling when you factor a bunch of prime numbers, and you think, "This means something." It does. It means all your math teachers should be fired.

Anyway, I've written several books--truth be known, but I'm editing them and spending more quality time with them instead of being pleased at what my hot potato hands are frying. I'll take Stephen King's advice on the matter, the stuff he talked about at a conference that was covered by YouTube. Wait.

One of the goons (after I said it first) that nobody cared if others were making gains off of me. We all make gains off of each other, I responded. As Marilyn Manson would say that it's all how you use it, and on an ancient note: nothing is new under the sun.

The muse is within us all.

All that wasn't the problem I had, simple theft. The problem I had, and all the attention I got was from Putin, is that people were attacking me constantly to impress and try to market this garbage. Honestly, if the lobotomies are so good, why can't they just sell them? Like I said, they did it more than once and had been torturing me.

As far as Putin goes, I'm mad at him still. He should have known what his influence would do. I don't think asking him for five million dollars (after taxes) or the house (after taxes) is too much to request.

Attention Whoring--The Punishment

No, I am not an attention whore.

I've spent most of my life being ignored or misused. I used to be slightly neurotic on top of it. I was careful about all the eggshells, the glass orbs.

I live in the world's sidelines though, like a player who never plays but throws the ball in ever so often. I tried the silent treatment to reality, but it didn't work because, in many people's minds, I have to be a loser, and they are obsessed with this. I am in their bug trap.

My mouth echoes words I've never said, my deeds never done.

I am obsessed with getting away from people these days. I've always known it, the grip of loneliness. When I was in second grade, I drew a house on the pavement with fresh chalk, and I didn't let anyone in. The wind blew. It told me I was right. In a tribal community, I'd be the banished witch. In contemporary society, I am a pariah.

It is my fate.

People have such hopes about their futures, their "fates." I don't blame them. They play the game well in their delusions. They'll lose no matter, but they win in their minds. It's a sweet victory for them. Then they become diabetic, ignoring the rotting house and causes.

Also, a lot of people, who I've now detached from, don't value me, you see. They will use my labels against me. I can't escape if I want to appear normal and have "friends." I've learned better than to fight them because they have power over reality.

I am so inconvenient, a bother. Growing up, my sister liked to point out people never called me. I was terrified to not have friends due to my specialness and how they used it to trap me. I dislike some teachers, the "saviors" of the damned..

It's like, everyone hates me. Why do I have to get along with them?

As an adult, I am unprofessional and, as usual, unwanted. This came when I had to survive the wrath of those who matter.

The stars hold greatness. I landed on the moon; far enough away to watch them all.