What is

Homestart?

Just another volunteer organization I want to help out.  I want to work every second of my day.  You know... if I didn't eat so much I'd feel good about myself and I wouldn't have to try to do this to feel useful.  But even with trying to help I feel useless because to tell the truth I haven't done anything yet.  I still need to give.
I don't know where I put my library volunteer nametag.
My work is having me do office work for them.  I call people and pretend I have official business and know their accounts when I don't know anything but their name and phone number.  Then I ask for their credit card information and write it down on paper.  I leave it on the counter when I close.



Propitious: favorable situation or person.  Like propitious weather.

pro·pi·tious

 /prəˈpɪʃəs/ Show Spelled[pruh-pish-uhs] Show IPA

–adjective

1.

presenting favorable conditions; favorable: propitious weather.

2.

indicative of favor; auspicious: propitious omens.

3.

favorably inclined; disposed to bestow favors or forgive: propitious gods.

 

Close enough?

 

 

 

I don't know...

I don't think I'll ever be good enough for me.  

Propitious used Scald.

I like my Propitious... its a Swan Pokemon.  So beautiful...  It makes me wish I knew someone that was swan-like in beauty...  I don't really like animals: I scare them too much.  I'd love animals if they didn't have to be afraid of me.  But all of you have something to be afraid of.

 

 

I was considering dying my hair this summer.  I was thinking neon pink or neon blue or rainbow.  But I wanted to let someone else decide for me.  Who knows... I might post pictures when I do it.

I also want to kill myself symbolically.  I want to walk into a street with active traffic.  Travel off the path.  Climb up buildings and lean over the edge.  I want to open my skin in front of people and introduce myself as Goldfish to someone.  I want to know what it feels like to be a ghost...

Ghosts don't eat.

:(

I'm no good at that.

 

I guess I'll stay where I am. 

Hoping to die someday...

 

 

stay beautiful 

You're right

I had trouble waking up this morning?  So what... I just started my day later by 30 minutes more than I wanted.  I did some things like pull out the Tuba and hold it out in front of me just long enough to make it hurt a little.  I have to do more.
I've done a few songs worth of ab workouts.  I'll feel pathetic if I count what I can do.  I'm strong.  Don't doubt.  But I consider myself less than I am.
I should have skipped dinner last night.  It would have been so easy.  My mind wasn't in the right place.

I at least played some mad volleyball for a few hours.  Not good enough.  NEVER good enough.
I need to quantify what I do.
I buy a starbucks every Friday morning because I play pokemon with my best friend.  Downgrade the size to Tall; Grande is way too big.

I have a 7 hour shift at work today with no lunch break.  Its illegal, but I told my boss I don't need a lunch.  I don't need a lunch break.  I'll eat 2 fuji apples.  I can live off apples and water.  I could live off air.
I want to eat a little. 
But I need to keep the prize on my mind.



"Anger never comes without a reason, but it seldom comes with a good one."
-Benjamin Franlkin


Stay beautiful

For those confused

I've been considering how useless I am.
 
All the help I do can be done by someone else.
Mostly these thoughts come up because I've been used to rejection.  I really don't know what about me isn't good enough, but its apparent I'm not what anyone wants.  No one wants me.
 
So I've been trying to fall back on my quotes.  A little sincerity can be dangerous, a great deal of it is absolutely fatal.
And people don't get it.  They don't understand any of them...
Its so relevant when i say "a richer people could give more, but they would never give as much"
Because I think of how much I give.  How little money I have, but how I give to charity when it comes up to my face and asks for it.  How I volunteer time because I have no money to spare... I have uses for that money.  Why is money so important anyways?
I think of suicide.  How much money would I give away if I knew i was going to kill myself.  Would I still hang on to what I have if I knew I was going to lose it?  I have no idea.  I think of what would happen if someone actually DID steal my wallet when I leave it in my car, or if they went into my room and destroyed everything I own just because I forgot to lock the door.  I wonder why people warn me about these things when they never happen.
Maybe it is true...  A little sincerity can be dangerous but a great deal of it is absolutely fatal.
Because all these warnings are killing me.
 
Making me think of how much I have to lose.
 
 
And when I think about it.
I don't care if I lose it all
because I'm not worth anything in the first place
 
 
stay beautiful

Trophy Cake

How blind can you be don't you see?

I don't know how I can LIKE myself.  Where did I ever get the idea that I was strong or that I had a six pack?  I DON'T have a six pack.  I'm in the process of working on one.  I shouldn't even want one.  I want to lose weight.  I don't care if I lose weight.  I want to fit into a size zero; or whatever size is the lowest possible for my bone structure.  I will not be less!  But dammit I already am less.
I'd like to tear my hair out, but its too short to tear.  I'd like to cut my skin open, but it requires something sharp, it requires making marks.  Something I can't bring myself to do.  I'd like if someone else did it for me.  What if it hurts...  oh well, its pain that I deserve right now.  Where did I ever get the idea that I was good enough?

I'm sorry.
Forgive me!

How can I ever forgive myself?  How can I ever rationalize being taken advantage of?  How will I ever tell the next person that cares for me- AGAINST ALL REASON because I'm a waste of effort.
Right now
Wasting effort.

When did I ever proclaim myself an artist?  I have nothing to show and yet I feel as though I belong to some artist guild.  How did I ever deceive myself into believing I was ever part of anything?

Why can't I just take an eraser and rub it all away?


NO.
I don't need your rationalizations.
I need willpower.
Are you rationalizations going to give me willpower?
The MEANS have BECOME the ENDS if you try to rationalize me.  You rationalize me to rationalize, not to cure me.  Look at the water before you try to walk across it.  Build a bridge first.  Do NOT try to walk on water.
I'm not a dog.  Not everything you say to me will fix me.


stay beautiful

Poet Pendulum

Oceans within.
I wonder if that describes my thought pattern.  Big, mostly empty expanse.  Water like sand, more endless than the desert.  Something cold and always moving.  Dangerous.  Hiding predators in the great darkness at the bottom.

What am I?


I have lied to a girl.  I'm trying to build a staircase to heaven on nothing but feelings.  Those thoughts you feel for a second and then they are gone.  I wonder if the ground I stand on will disappear.  And then I wonder where it is I will fall...
I wonder if an ocean of water will be there to catch me or if there really is nothing else after this.

You never really get over thoughts of suicide until you find yourself thinking of reasons to live.  But if you ever take one step down the same staircase that brought you to the suicidal low you will reach the bottom.  And there...  You just can't get better.
Life is like endless swimming.  Keep your head above water or else you drown.  And dead people just settle at the bottom eventually.



So what am I doing chasing after beautiful faces?  Why do I flirt with someone that says no?  Because I'm worried about myself.  What if I don't have some small reason to live?  What if belief is the only thing holding me up?
I never really got to the point where I believed in God.  So I use you instead.  My readers, the beautiful faces I wish to meet.
I hope to be distracted just long enough to die peacefully.

stay beautiful

Someone should tell him

So i know what a minor addiction is like.  I'll one day know what major addiction is.  One of these days I'm going to shoot up with something illegal just because I want to feel the worst withdrawal of my life when it leaves me.
But for now I want to talk about ideal love.

I used to think ideal love was when two people could guess the other person's moves like it was their own.  You could lay down and predict who would talk first, and what they would say, and what your answer should be.  Then, if you somehow spoke before the other person, they could play your role and you theirs.
I used to think ideal love was a profitable exchange of two bodies.  Two people as close to perfection as they can be, paired with each other because they try just as hard.  Luck and lucrative relations keep them together.  Inevitably these two people are successful.

And then I started acting out an ideal love.  A love where I was a gentleman, where I showed this girl all the pieces of her childhood she missed out on.  By always saying she was beautiful, and not only saying it, but finding a new way to say it every time.  I no longer hesitate to see this girl; she calls and I'm there.  I do so much to make her laugh.  I hug.  I give her freedom.  I have no idea what else I do.
I don't kiss.  I don't molest her.  I touch her a lot, in a lot of places.  I'm surprised she lets me. 
She bit me.

I'm just so tired now.
I feel nauseous because I didn't get to control what I ate.


Not tired.  I could do this forever.  I'd run out of money before I ran out of anything else.
Thats why ideal love is none of those.  But sort of all of those.



stay beautiful

Understood

Shit.
I woke up and realized I can't look sad.  I have to wear a painted grin for my own protection.

If people ask me what is wrong I could tell them, even though I would rather not.  I don't understand it all. 

I need to protect myself from people trying to help.  I don't want help.
And I know none of the people that want to help can help in the first place.


I've tried to save people that don't want to be saved.  It doesn't work.




stay beautiful

Truthspeaker

Dehydrated.  Late night.  Morning tomorrow.  Eventually.  Going to do something.  Need to try.  I want to die.  Still.
Hour?  Don't think so.
I'm here.  Typing.  Why?
Because nothing makes sense.  Not even this feeling makes sense.  I don't even know what pleasure is.  What is good?  What is bad?
The only feeling I seem to be able to detect a difference in is LOVE.  I know what love is.

So now what?
Die
Search for Love?
I know
impossible.
Need to do other things like make money.  Save lives.  Important human business.
What if I became a cat?

Well then I wouldn't be dehydrated.
Music in my room.
A letter I have to RSVP for.
Me.

I suddenly don't want to be here.
Suddenly... meaning a while ago
I hope
this feeling stays forever.
Want to
Die

I think of what it would be like to cut open my eyelids.  Would the blood sting my eyes like juice?  Feel like salty water against the sensitive tissue?  I might dream of things like this.  Hoping my life will end.

No... its not some silly feeling
Its something I've been wanting for a while
I want a better reason to die.  That is why I haven't died yet.
Because if I had a better reason
I'd be dead.


stay beautiful

Yes, I'm crazy

He thinks with his mouth out loud.  He will say what he is thinking before he types it.  The substance of his brain is public and you know what?  He doesn't care.

There is someone out there like this.

She plays with rubber bands, doesn't know anything about being human.  She says so much but none of it is conversation.  Food is the purpose of life.  Comfort its embellishment.  Sleep is necessary.

There is a cat like this.



Sometimes I wonder what the big difference is.
What does it mean to be human?
I don't know what it means to be a cat

unforgiven

I searched the house looking for bleach.  Disappointing.  I didn't find any.  I wanted a cup of bleach to wash down this entry.  I wanted this to be a suicide note.

I was going to say that I had the means, but I had the control.  I even wanted to pour bleach on my skin to leave a mark.  Show you I can destroy whatever piece of me I want to.  Because that is what I have done.  I've destroyed a piece of myself.

I'm contemplating going shopping somewhere.  Anywhere that is open 24 hours and buying my own personal supply of bleach.  Its the only thing I would trust to kill me.  I don't trust the HCl I use for my pranks or gasoline or even syrup of ipecac.  All I trust is bleach- even though I know in many cases it doesn't kill people.  I'd trust a gun more.  But not knifes.  I'm not used to stabbing myself so I'd miss an artery and only hit veins.  Too many veins to choose from.

If you didn't get it by now I want to die tonight.
This feeling may carry over for a few days.


In my suicide note I was sure to mention how privileged I was.  I drive a car, live under a roof without rent and with minimal responsibility.  I have freedom enough to do anything. 
I was probably going to put my best face forward like usual; say that I was doing well in school even though I'm still struggling.  I have less classes to struggle through.  I'd say something about losing myself in ways no one else understands.  I doubt you know the difference between a body that can run 20 miles and a body that can only run 10 as intimately as I do.  So I might be right.
But I would have pleaded.  Pleaded that there be no pity; for I was fine.  So fine I was going to die happy.  I always hated my face, and it would give me pleasure to eliminate that ugly piece of literature.
I am drifting.

So I digress; my virginity is gone.  Not the way I envisioned it.  No.   I don't care if I come to terms with it.  I didn't ejaculate, but I didn't care to.  When it was happening I stopped and said I didn't want this.  It still counts, even if it is immeasurable on a male.  Want to break in my skull.

No I'm not sexually awkward.  I'm fine.
I'm suicidal right now, but its fine.


Those moments in your life where you don't want to be alive.
Right now.




stay beautiful

The same sentence with different meanings

It is amazing what you don't know

You didn't know I was holding the shell of a bomb while talking to you.

You don't know how beautiful I find you.  I can't even think of sex because I'm so awestruck.  I haven't said a word to you and I've known you for how many years?  8?
You saved me from...  something that wouldn't have been so bad.  But something I didn't want.  You saved me.

You don't know how nice you are.

You don't know how beautiful you are.

You don't know how much you care.


You don't know you're a hypocrite.

You don't know that you're never leaving that place.

You don't know that I didn't even want to see you.

You don't know how I can't hate you for the same reasons.

You don't know how often I wish I could hold you

You don't know I think you are ugly.

You don't know what someone else thinks they have hidden from you.
You don't know how much of a hypocrite you are.
You don't know why everyone leaves.  You don't know why they can't talk to you.  You don't know why they all disappear at the same time.  You don't know why you can't focus.  You don't know why no one else is good enough.  You don't even know what you feel.  You don't know what you think.  You don't know who you are.
But its you.
You're the one that is writing this.  You're the one this is intended for.  You're the one that has to own up to all of it.  Because its all true.


And what do you do?
What is the correct response when someone tells you something you don't like about yourself.  "hey, you have trouble waking up in the morning"
A: "oh shit!  I do?"
B: "I know- fuggadaboutit"
C: "Damn... let me try to do better"
D: "What?"
E: "How are you?"
F: "You're confusing"
G: Stop it.  There aren't any answers.  What do you think this is school?


What has school taught me to do?
I can't do homework.  I've never been able to.  So I've failed a lot where other people succeed.  But I work so hard.  I try to work every day.  My play time is work.  Video games is work.
I picked up my controller today saying "I'm going to get better as Diddy Kong"
Now that I look back at it I can see.  But I feel like I haven't achieved that layer of vision when we say we see something but mean we understand it.  I feel like I don't understand myself.  And I feel like i never will.

People tell me all the time how I am being confusing.  But they never tell me how I am confusing.


Do you see?
Do you know?



Violet...  I'll make a deal with you.  How about when you talk to me I'll give you my blog.  You can say anything.  You can say hi.  And I'll give you the title.  I'll share the link.  Please... just talk to me.  I'll text it if I see you in person.  I need your voice before I send it.  I need that... consent.
I read your blog.
You would like to read mine.
Talk to me.
You don't know how hard it is for me to be waiting for anyone to talk.  I never hear back from you.



stay beautiful

A few days by

Sometimes you just don't know how to say it

She kills me inside, and its the death I want.  I want to die.  Like I want to be ready for death.  Dead on the inside so that if death suddenly swept me off my feet (or swept my feet off of me), then I could just accept it.  I could embrace it; love death because it will unite me with the rest of my dead self.


Yeah... I don't know how to say it.



So.....................Day
6am: Woke up for Pokemon, ended up defrosting windows for 10 minutes
6:30am: Pokemon.  Best friend times :)
8am: come home, second breakfast, leave for volunteer
8:10am: sign in.  And...  play beach ball with old people.
Then we did crafts until 11am
cleaned up.
11:30am: In-room visits.

In-room visits are what you would image as volunteer work for a nursing home.  You talk to someone.  Go to room 512 (false room number) and talk to patient C.  Patient C is Catholic (had no catholic visits) is alert but has moments of confusion.  They might mention something about career on the page or something else about the patient.  Point is, your job is to give them company.  Its the scariest job I've ever done in my life.

I'm not going to mention everything about these visits.  There were a lot of... depressing...  And these people probably don't want anonymous sympathy.  No... I wouldn't care for it.
I'd want more volunteers like the fool I'm PRETENDING to be.
Somebody... should kill me so I can be this fool that donates his life to everyone else he can.
I want my heart to be broken.



I noticed she was different the moment I saw her.  I'll name her Kork- explained later-.  She looked different from the others, she was so real to me, and her first words to me were "never love a woman because all she will do is break your heart."  Kork is a lesbian over 80 years old. 
She needs to be named Kork because her mouth is foul; she would cuss every sentence if she didn't care for respect.  But she knows that the first time talking to someone you should be polite.  Well, Kork, I look up to you.  You're disease has taken half of your body, and the stupidity of others has caused you extra injuries, but you continue to fight for yourself.  You don't antagonize others even if you don't care whether you flip them a bird for walking by.  You're the kindest person I've met here, kinder than all the nurses.  And you are so real.  Even when you go on a memory trip you mean to do it to tell me the story of your life.  Kork... parts of you will live in this blog even if they are inappropriately named.
She said to me "Before my father died he had me promise: Don't tell your mother."  I thought she was crazy for bringing it up, she hadn't even told me yet.  "So I never told her.  I kept my mouth shut.  I said 'mom, this is my roommate.'  And when her parents came we were together again."  "He said 'I know you're gay, but your mother doesn't know' and you don't know how hard it was but even after the day she died I never told her.  She never knew."  So there it was.  She told me what my first glance said.  This was a gay woman years and years older than anyone else I had known before.  This was someone that lived invisible in the 1950's and fought so hard in the 1960's to be recognized.  She still fights today. 
I told her that I'm going to visit her on the Day of Silence and I'm not going to say a word to her, but I'm going to have a nice long talk with her. 





Going to buy a white board and a dry erase marker.




Today I heard at least 3 people beg me to let them out.  They all said they hate this place.  But I don't know if they realize how scary the rest of the world is.  I mean... some of them do.  July... one of the most capable of all the people there is afraid of the outside world.  She can stand and walk and read and speak coherently always.  But she knows if she were on her own life would be much harder than it is now.  Life is only painful now, but it will always have some degree of pain.
People... just want to be in control of how the pain comes to them.
Something about treating your own wounds causes them to hurt less.
But you aren't a doctor.  You don't know a lot.  Some cases you could accidentally make it worse.





So a few days go by and you wonder whatever became of us.
I still think of you every day.
But I'm sick.
Once I see her...

I'm nonsense.
sorry







stay beautiful

Bloody

Bloody gallon.  I've given a bloody gallon of blood now.

Why have I been gone?
School.

So I've been weaker than expected

yeah... I'm having trouble keeping up.  Not with the course, but with every assignment I have a minor anxiety attack sort of thing.  I look at it and freeze.  I like to think I'm in complete control of what I do, but when the contents of my stomach haven't been the beautiful air as it should be... I don't think I'm in control.  I've gotten moody because I haven't eaten, or because I haven't had sugar.  I'd rather fall asleep than start a war.
The bandage on my arm is the only thing reminding me to not try something tonight.  I'm likely to do something if given the chance.
because I want to

I'm winning some battles and losing some others.  I got the highest score on my political science exam for the class, but I got an 88.5% (a not so impressive score).  I have the volunteer position for the nursing home.  I'm still 2 points below 100% in one class, and very close to the same perfect score in another.  I've been breathing.
Sometimes that is a victory in itself.


My writing... impresses me.  I have an older voice.  A singing prose.  Something worth reading.  Maybe these fingers will type out a story one day.
I will post it on my DeviantArt if I ever make a story.


Some comical things...  Sort of.
I saw the most beautiful girl I've ever seen with blue hair today.  I've seen her quite a few times... always wishing to tell her something...  Today she also gave blood.
I poked my head through the curtains that separated the bloodgivers from the regular commerce and said "Hi, I'm Daniel"  She told me her name "Do you have time?  I'd like to hang out with you a little after you're done.  You're very beautiful"  She said she has class, but maybe.
My wish came true because she talked to me.  We said things like how we wanted to get away from school (which is almost a lie... because I want to always be in school.  But there comes a time where I must move on so I can return- people keep reminding me I go to school for a reason).  We compared the days we graduated.  She said a little about art and me about my near perfect scores.  I told her I have faults enough.  I remember wanting to tell her she was beautiful again... but the words were stuck this time.  Perhaps I had already used them up. 
She said she had to go to class.
I asked her "Would you mind if I asked you for your number..."  I could tell by the look on her face it was too forward.
She said it was too forward "... or is it too forward?"
Okay
"have a nice day"



I'm looking at myself without a mirror.  People call it self reflection.
I'm not sure what to call it.
I'd like to call it listening
But I don't know what I hear.


I don't know... I tried to get a second job.  I want so badly to get a plane ticket to see Naz.  I don't want to have to dream about it.  I want to take the steps to get there.  But I don't think the interview worked out.  I'm going to have to try sometime in August.  So far away...
I get a year older in August.
Need to finish school or something like that
Need to get out of the house of my parents.
Need to choose










Too much inside
Its like looking in a mirror with a mirror behind you.  Your eyes are somewhere in forevermirrors.  The space seems to stretch out forever, but really you're just looking at the same room over and over again.  More reflections...  I wonder... if...
I wonder if she likes me?


stay beautiful

HIPPA

I didn't read your post Naz, but you aren't fat.  You're not going to be for a long time.  And when you are its okay.  You're more beautiful than that.
Why the shoutout?

I'm trying to pay you back for all the smiles.



Something... about fabricated kindness irks me.  Kills my mood.  I hate telling someone that can't do something that they can do something.  I don't like telling people that can do something that they can't do it.  And when old people say "I'm blind" they might just be lying.
I volunteered today.
I feel sick.
If I'm not careful I will get sick.  I exposed myself to a lot of bacteria that I'm usually not around.  Enough oxygen in my system and I'll be able to fight it off.  Maybe I will go to the store and buy blueberries.  They are my panacea.



There is... something about nursing homes that lends terror to the mind.  While I was volunteering, a woman screamed for help.  For hours she asked for help and not a single nurse came to her.  I visited the room, introduced myself, asked her what she wanted... but I can't do what she wanted.  I'm not a certified nurse.  She was asking me to do things certified nurses ONLY are allowed to do.  No one else likes her, but she is my favorite.
Among other people there are more tangible personalities.  There is a social woman whom I will name Shark.  She is hilarious, gets into all kinds of trouble.  She asked me to shut the door of the screaming resident as to muffle the noise.  She knew no one was going to help and would have appreciated hearing less of the screaming, but this obviously isolates one person even further.  Shark doesn't care if she is mean; its why I call her shark here.  Shark also loves food!  Food makes her happy... I don't mean she binged, she just is easiest to make friends with over a few small favors like fetching ice water or making her first in line for popcorn.  Shark is easy to get along with.
Some people there... are out of their minds.  One day and I can already see that if I say hi to someone the best answer I will get is an "EHHHHHHHHHH" or ask them a question "EEEEHHHHH"  What day of the week is it? "FREEEEEEHHHHHHHH"  I wonder if this person is in pain.
Another resident can't talk.  Claps her hands...  I'm going to have to learn to communicate with her, because her face is very expressive and she is lots of fun.
I played bingo with a man that can't read or write; he was never taught to read or write and by now his eyesight is poor for such activity.  But he is bright, charming, smart, funny, and handsome in his old man sort of quality.  He has figured out single digit numbers, but hasn't gotten the hang of double digits.  If you said the number 115 he would choose any number with two 1's and a 5 in it.  For some reason he doesn't know order matters...  I let him cheat a little sometimes... he would mark the bingo card for 56 when they called 65.  Hehe...

Nurses do have a hard job.
Some of them can do it well.
Sometimes the hall smells like piss.
There is a reason the facility I was working at was rated 2 stars... And in its current situation (they cut staff recently) it may not measure up that high.  Especially if an inspector hears screaming...  Screaming...
I put slippers on the screaming lady's feet.

Also... readers.  If I ever blog about residents PLEASE comment if I have told you enough to identify them.  I can't do that.  Its against the law.  And I need to make edits.  PLEASE keep me in check.
I'll tell you as much as I can.


I feel so dead on the inside.  I feel sad.  I feel dehydrated.  I feel like I've been killing my soul because I've had to see people that have to ask in order to go to the bathroom, or people that can't eat popcorn because of their specific diet, or because I share the suffering of every person's pain reflex just by being near them.
And...  I wanna feel this dead forever.

stay beautiful

Something

Something just made me happy
I just read some blogs.

stay beautiful