So these past few months have been weird, right? So. Weird.
I graduated college, so that was pretty cool. Right before that, I got kicked out of the band I started. Then I got some shitty job at a restaurant, thinking I was going to make a ton of money. That didn’t happen though, cause I got fired last week. Bummer.
My mom was acting crazy recently, calling the cops on me and stuff. It was kind of sad, really. She’s mentally ill, and she had it in her head that I was in some kind of danger. When I wouldn’t answer her phone calls she’d call the police. It hasn’t happened for awhile though, so that’s good. My sister didn’t have to deal with that (thankfully), but she recently let me know that she blacked out and hit her head in the bathroom. Yep, my sister had to get five staples in her head.
Sometimes I see people and they ask me how I’m doing, you know, to be nice and stuff. I smile (sometimes) and tell them I’m fine, which is true. I feel like if you let people know that your life is awful by normal standards, they treat you differently. Usually there’s this fake air of sympathy and they ask for details, or if they can do anything to help. Most of the time, I fucking hate it when people do that. I don’t want sympathy, I want people to understand that shitty things happen and you have to deal with it. I say I’m fine, or that I’ll be fine, because I am and I will.
What most people don’t understand is that I’ve seen some shit. I was an abused kid, I’ve been on my own since I was 17, I put myself through college, etc. etc. I’ve been tossed around and shafted so many times, little things don’t make much of a difference anymore. Maybe having such a nonchalant attitude is what really screws me, but oh well. If something bad happens and no one can do anything to fix it, what’s the point in letting it consume you? I got bigger fish to fry, babies.
My point is, life fucks you over sometimes. Does that mean you should dwell on your mistakes and dig your hole of self-pity even deeper? Nah dude. Buck up! Laugh a little, and drink a goddamn tasty beverage. Smoke a cigarette if you have to (or a doobie) and enjoy the things that make you happy.
For example: Today, as I was sitting here drinking a Corona*, I realized I hadn’t written anything aside from cover letters for the past few months. Not to toot my own horn, but I’m not *that* bad of a writer. Why did I just stop? I’m sure there were multiple reasons. Emotionally, I was going through a rough time so maybe I didn’t have the mental energy for it anymore. I dunno. Anyway, today I said to myself: FUCK IT. And I wrote this stupid blog entry.
*I’m still drinking the Corona
