kar-fucking-ma

this morning i guess I felt refreshed, after a grand total of 3 (count it) hours of sleep. As refreshed as I could have been, and more soft spoken than usual (given the circumstances), I indulged in a re-frozen slurpee from last night and chatted before, during commercials, and after an episode of The City, with Lauren. We complained about our lack of sleep, and decided that we are not in as prime health as one would like. I found myself this little file sorter ma-bob last month, and cleaned out the other persons documents, and re-labelled the dividing tabs so it was much more suited to my needs (the past two nights).
Human Figures/Living Situations/Oldies/ Magazine Clippings/ Lists I Cant Seem to Toss/Newspaper Cutouts/ Collage Stuffs...etc.etc.etc.
I dug out this old piece of paper that I fetched from the mail box of my old apartment, y'kno... the one I really fucking liked? I let myself into the building (fuck you, it's my key now), and got some old mail. And today I really REALLy read over some of the papers. They weren't addressed to me, and I am well aware that it's some sort of federal offense to open someone elses mail (it benefitted me in the past, for when I randomly opened a package addressed to an old tenant, inside was the exact replacement battery that I needed for my phone), so don't worry about giving me shit. The emotional pain and anguish my guilty conscience has suffered is punishment enough (~suppresses laugh~).
It was addressed to my former roommate, whos name was on the lease. And it was from the tenancy board, so I felt like I had every right to open that single envelope. I was living there and all. Anywho, upon further inspection today, I read at the bottom of the second sheet about how we REALLY had until October the 6th, to vacate that damn apartment. NOT the 25th of September, like that roommate, and my more recent of former roommates (Bitch-ard) had led me to believe. Ugh. I could have bought myself much more time, than the day they had given myself to pack up ALL my belongings and get out.
Sigh.
C'est la vie.
I got all upset shortly after reading this. And then reading that had the former roommate (who's mail I opened) could have stopped this, but instead chose to NOT show up at the court hearing. I think my eyes leaked a little bit. And then I sighed a whole lot more and made Lauren hold me while I poured my heart out about not expecting any single individual human being to treat me at all like how I treat them (which is too nice. I am way too nice. and yes, this is a disadvantage), but instead at the very least like another respectable human- their equal. Maybe I am wrong to think that everybody should have this benefit, but I still stand by it. Regardless.

So to all the assholes out there who take people for granted, and consider their friends really as just another bridge to burn... fuck you.
Karma, bitches.

careful now.

This is most obviously a massive makeout session between me and L.Slice.
As a result, the victims are rumored to be upwards of 56 innocent bystanders. It is thought that there are at least three individuals on vacation from Peru, that were also lost in the madness.

Rescue workers are continuing their efforts.

armed with only a pencil, she was more dangerous than they'd ever know.

to me the best feeling in the entire world is when my hands and arms, past my elbows is covered in paint. when there are a too-large array or markers and a million different pencils scattered all over the floor, bed, and couch. when the lines just flow, and when the colors surprise even me and make everything look better.
the best feeling in the world, is depicting the all insane scribbles I see inside my head on that piece of paper, that canvas, that napkin... and feel like I have accomplished explaining myself to the surrounding world, just a little better.
even though I am well aware that they are just probably more confused than they were to begin with.
the greatest feeling, when I refuse to throw out every little doodle and scribble made while waiting for my booster juice, or while sitting crammed against the window on a busy transit bus on the way home. Finding inspiration from the repetitive world downtown, or the even more repetitive suburban lifestyle. Checking out the sky in awe and wishing i could replicate the color scheme in a piece I started last night.

The best feeling... is letting my hand lead the way and create something I so previously I had thought impossible for me to do. I sigh. I smile. I get excited and motivated to attack my sketchbook once more. It's been since last Christmas that I have filled a sketchbook and a half. It wouldnt surprise me if I filled the other half of that one, by the time Christmas rolls around again. No sketchbooks handy?
No problem.
I just create and turn everything in my life into one big art project.

I love my brain. I love these hands. And I love that nobody holds me back from what I really love in life. And if they were to try, they wouldn't succeed.

bitches. bitchesbitchesbitches bitches

Alphonze is so fecking rad. That's my rat. Rightnow he is trying to find where the chocolate is at.

Disability makes me cry. More than once this week. I am so frustrated, that I could explode. I was hoping that things would have been taken care of by today, but its not. I am so sick of explaining the situation, so I am not even going to bother on here.
If I knew ahead of time, or even a few weeks ago, I could have been looking hard for work. If I wasn't to expect these November benefits, then I would have found another way to make up rent money, and money to pay my fucking bills. But no, I waited and waited and waited, and talked on the phone (accomplishing fuck all), and then waited and waited again. And I am still waiting.
Thats right. I love it (retch).
So that is my release of frustration, complete with exasperated noises, hand gestures, and obviously smoke signals.

We went for a ride to get slurpee's and now i honestly feel better. maybe its the slurpees. Maybe it is the good vibes and energy from Lauren during the truck drive. Maybe it's the fact that everything IS, in fact, going to somehow someway work out, and that I just need to stop whining and shut the fuck up about it and just go make some nachos.
cuz I am fucking lucky that I have this place to stay. And I am fucking lucky that there is food to eat, and that i still have a phone to use. And hey, whats this... internet, too? Seeeee now, I have a lot to be thankful for. And by the time I get my november benefits, I will be getting december's not long thereafter. And that will be fucking nice.
fuck.
yes.
bitches.

today i woke up to people, left and right, giving me shit.
i love when that happens.
my sister calling me and giving me a hard time. my disability office giving me shit because they don't have the right information STILL, to issue me the money I am supposed to be living off of for the month of november. It's not much, but it is still something that I rely on to pay my bills.
Last night I had a great amazing fun time with Lauren. But this morning is a different story.
I love the girl, and am happy that she has a job now. I packed her a lunch and sorta-waved her off to work today. Now I wait here, for some sort of money miracle to happen before I can do anything.

hack coff coff wheeeeze

I am super exhausted again the past few days. And yet I find that I still cannot sleep. When I am awake, I decide that I am not coherent enough to function in the real world. Or I avoid stepping outside because I am slowly reverting back to my ways of Hermitism. It's a rare condition in which I completely avoid interacting with the real world. The world can come interact with me, if they want to make small talk. Until then, it just ain't happening.
I am sure there are healthier ways to go about doing things.
Cigarettes feel way too good in my lungs this week. My cough is an excellent display of the quality of said smoked cigarettes.

Lauren has gotten a job at Ipsos. I used to work there. I remember not liking it, and trying to get out of it. I believe it lasted about three weeks or so. Alas, guess where I found myself 5 or so days ago? ....In the office of Ipsos, checking [ ] YES to Have you ever worked at Ipsos before? on their application form.
I am not going to lie. I am fucking terrified of getting an actual job. Sure, I may seem like a fully functional individual, but don't let it fool you... I have a hard time being consistent. My mood swings determine how I believe I really truly feel about the job, and that determines the rest of the story.
ugh. social anxieties and pressure and whatnot.
see? shit like this makes me wonder if perhaps I would be better off on my prescribed meds [ahh, the eternal question...]...

I still haven't gotten my check for social assistance, like I was supposed to get at the beginning of November. Sigh. They want to make sure me and Lauren's dad are not "common-law"....
....
woah. no thanks. [thats awkward] So I have to wait and wait and wait and then do it all over again. Funds are getting low, and it's making it hard to do anything.

My mom is taking me out for lunch today. I better call her back. I can't wait. Ever since I moved out of my mom's, we get along so so so much better. You know how all that nonsense goes.

virgo

We figured out our cats' zodiac signs.
....
really?

(bowsa's a virgo!)

my cat is in love with my girlfriend.
others may find this weird.
i think my cat has good taste.

no picking at it.

have you ever wondered if your grandfather, uncle, or oldest brother thrice removed looked like a lesbian???
compare now, and find out!!

THESE OLD MEN ARE ACTUALLY REALLY TRULY OLD MEN...!

(ceej will not be held responsible for any scarring. viewer discretion is advised)

to the owner of the blue honda

i got my kitty back. she hadn't gone anywhere that I hadn't put her.
but i went and got her back.
now she is all doped up. awkward standing on those doped up kitty legs of hers.
therefore sleep is either a must or a really welcoming choice.
===
it breaks my heart when I see my baby cry and I dont know what to do
to make her smile, except to make monster noises with my throat cuz i had a li'l somethin-somethin stuck back there.
===
o thom yorke... you are slowly owning my soul.
===
i dont even like smoking cigarettes. i crave them, but not as much as I smoke them. I just need something to do. Constantly. Even when I am doing something, i have to be doing another something more! It's a vicious cycle... my something-doing is never fulfilled
--dramatically breaks down and then waits patiently for academy award--
===
bong? did someone say bong? wait, was that me?
...no matter. whoever it was, you just made an excellent point.
===
ps.fuck you jd