like anyone else, i hate being sick. the congestion plus my asthma just makes me feel like complete shit. i am glad it hit me before the new year, though, as i'm supposed to be hearing back from that job. the suspense is fucking killllling me.
jake and i broke up... again. we haven't spoken in more than a week. i miss him a lot. i am still deeply in love with him. perhaps this time apart is just what we need for right now and maybe we will get back together in the future but thats just me being confused and hopeful. one of the last things he said to me was that he needed time to think about everything and to get his head straight. and i hope he does and realizes that we don't need to be apart to work on ourselves. i have been good and strong and haven't sent any pathetic texts or drunkenly called him, though i have wanted to. i have random crying sessions but they don't last long. me being sick has made me more prone to them it seems because i started to cry earlier while boiling water, thinking about absolutely nothing. i blame the nyquil.
it's 8 am and i have not slept all night. this sickness has fucked up my sleeping schedule to the max.

i decided that 2k14 will be less of this

and more of this


au revoir

Wishbone
Richard Siken

You saved my life he says I owe you everything.
You don’t, I say, you don’t owe me squat, let’s just get going, let’s just get gone, but he’s

relentless,

keeps saying I owe you, says Your shoes are filling with your own damn blood,

you must want something, just tell me, and it’s yours.

But I can’t look at him, can hardly speak,

I took the bullet for all the wrong reasons, I’d just as soon kill you myself, I say.

You keep saying I owe you, I owe… but you say the same thing every time.

Let’s not talk about it, let’s just not talk.

Not because I don’t believe it, not because I want it any different, but I’m always saving

and you’re always owing and I’m tired of asking to settle the debt.

Don’t bother.

You never mean it anyway, not really, and it only makes me that much more ashamed.

There’s only one thing I want, don’t make me say it, just get me bandages, I’m bleeding,

I’m not just making conversation.

There’s smashed glass glittering everywhere like stars. It’s a Western, Henry,

it’s a downright shoot-em-up. We’ve made a graveyard out of the bone white afternoon.

It’s another wrong-man-dies scenario

and we keep doing it, Henry, keep saying until we get it right…

but we always win and we never quit, see, we’ve won again, here we are at the place

where I get to beg for it

where I get to say Please, for just one night, will you lay down next to me, we can leave our

clothes on, we can stay all buttoned up?

or will I say

Roll over and let me fuck you till you puke, Henry, you owe me this much, you can indulge me

this at least, can’t you? but we both know how it goes. I say I want you inside me

and you hold my head underwater, I say I want you inside me

and you split me open with a knife. I’m battling monsters, half-monkey, half-tarantula,

I’m pulling you out of the burning buildings and you say I’ll give you anything.

But you never come through.

Give me bullet power. Give me power over angels. Even when you’re standing up

you look like you’re lying down, but will you let me kiss your neck, baby? Do I have to

tie your arms down?

Do I have to stick my tongue in your mouth like the hand of a thief, like a burglary

like it’s just another petty theft? It makes me tired, Henry. Do you see what I mean?

Do you see what I’m getting at?

You swallowing matches and suddenly I’m yelling Strike me. Strike anywhere.

I swear, I end up feeling empty, like you’ve taken something out of me, and I have to search

my body for the scars, thinking

Did he find that one last tender place to sink his teeth in? I know you want me to say it, Henry,

it’s in the script, you want me to say Lie down on the bed, you’re all I ever wanted

and worth dying for too

but I think I’d rather keep the bullet this time. It’s mine, you can’t have it, see,

I’m not giving it up. This way you still owe me, and that’s

as good as anything.

You can’t get out of this one, Henry, you can’t get it out of me, and with this bullet

lodged in my chest, covered with your name, I will turn myself into a gun, because

it’s all I have,

because I’m hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own. I’ll be your

slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue and final resting, walking around with this

bullet inside me

‘cause I couldn’t make you love me and I’m tired of pulling your teeth. Don’t you see, it’s like

I’ve swallowed your house keys, and it feels so natural, like the bullet was already there,

like it’s been waiting inside me the whole time.

Do you want it? Do you want anything I have? Will you throw me to the ground

like you mean it, reach inside and wrestle it out with your bare hands?

If you love me, Henry, you don’t love me in a way I understand.

Do you know how it ends? Do you feel lucky? Do you want to go home now?

There’s a bottle of whiskey in the trunk of the Chevy and a dead man at our feet

staring up at us like we’re something interesting.

This is where the evening splits in half, Henry, love or death. Grab an end, pull hard,

and make a wish.

yesterday a lady called me back after i replied to an ad she posted on CL for a data entry job! she's from a staffing agency so today i had to wake up so so so so early to meet her for an interview. the lovely dianne (idk how to link to other estrip users) offered to take me. and also the lovely tanya let me borrow some interview-appropriate clothes since all my threads be a little hoodratty. THANK YOU AGAIN, SO MUCH, LADIES.
BUT! THE INTERVIEW WENT REALLY WELL. i feel good about it. i should know by tomorrow when my interview with the actual employer will be. yayayay!

ALSO ST VINCENT IS COMING ON APRIL 12TH i am so freaking stoked wow

Friends & Family! I was passed this information today and couldn't believe this site really existed. Apparently this site "Spokeo.com" has a database including your name, address, phone numbers, pictures and even family members on this site. All for the price of 3.95. I took my time to research if this was true and IT IS. I was able to find myself in every place I have ever lived in or rented (mind you I have never owned a home) and related family members. If you enjoy your privacy, here's how to remove your information:

earlier tonight i decided i wanted to bake something. i looked downstairs in the cupboard and realized that i had all the ingredients to make pretty much any chocolatey baked good i wanted. i decided on this recipe. so i started ze process with bringing my butter to room temperature. i get to mixing together the salt, flour and baking powder and then begin on the wet part of it. i open up my warm butter only to realize... it somehow got moldy? wat. i looked on the internet and all i found were people saying, "i didn't even know butter could get moldy!" anyway it was fuckin gross.



i texted brother and he came to the rescue since he was already out and got me new butter so i could continue my baking journey. thank you, brother! this recipe calls for instant pudding mix to make them softer.



i reread the directions and wow i realize i am making 70 cookies. i knew it was a lot but i guess i didn't rreallly think about it with all the butter drama going on.





at this point i was just so over it



too many freaking cookies

this is jackson "Cat Daddy" galaxy



thanks to his show "my cat from hell" i think i now know what i want to do with my life. he specializes in "cat behavioral therapy".