Hope Followed by Aftershock

Short Story by: frog

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Two journals that contradict.

Thursday September 3rd 2009

What about spare time and hobbies. I don't mope around all the time. Depression has a tendency to take part in all my activities. It's when I am going to bed or not doing anything that th D monsters invade me enough to alter my actions. I think I am gaining control. Enough control that I am able to function contently again. Today I wrote more of my autobiography and juggled. Yep I can juggle. I haven't gotten into a good book lately. I still need to find a book I can finish in a day. I love those books. Theres just something spectacular about writing you can't put down. I've never really accomplished anything I say I am going to accomplish. I don't know why that is. I drift from moment to moment like a kid with add. Juggling, porn, chat, lunch, coffee, writing, let dog out, let dog in. I don't know why,but I can never settle for one thing. I updated my myspace. I like it but I dont know if anyone else will. All that matters is it killed time and I enjoyed individualizing my myspace, oh myspace. he he . My spare time has been spent writing a lot these last few years. Excessive internet use has been another one of my time killers. I had big plans for diamond willow, but I haven't had the money or quite enough talent for it. Diamond willow is wood work You can make lamps and tables and just about any dust collector item imaginable. First you use a big blade called a draw knife to pull the bark off. Then you sand forever. You then drill holes and usually destroy the wood after all the sanding. If that doesn't occur you spared failure: the process of going upstairs or inside to shower and go to bed a two hour wasted man was spared. If your lucky you can varnish, dry varnish, and let those varnishes dry. After that you can hook up your lamp. Wood burning can be just as frustrating. Writing is relaxing. Though I would like to get far tomorrow in what I call my autobiography, I'll probably find several things to do that don't apply. Regardless of what I do I always find something to do alone. I use to go out on the trails or take time to make my own trail. I've always had this entrepreneur spirit. I would come up with a game routine in my basement and want to sell my idea. Or I would create imaginary friends to teach how to swing on the swing set as a kid. As my ideas progressed I wanted to make a public walking trail in my backyard which was forty acres. Generally it was my family that followed me on these ventures. When I played piano I felt I'd be famous. Same with the trumpet. When I drew pictures I felt it should go on the wall. My rocks should be in a science museum and my writing in the hands of every reader. I just want people to know my name and my fame. My interests have never stayed focused. I'm to random and I guess I enjoy to much. Having a broad range of interests never hurt anyone. Whats really funny is I planned on writing this journal about the times I explored the forest and the pond out there. All the animals and adventure. I have built and attempted to build so many nifty forts that face natures wrath at its worst. My hobbies have varied greatly and may not be the conventional video game many of us play or the t.v. many of us watch or the sports many of us play, but I do keep busy ticking away in life for greater purpose.

September 4th 2009

One day later

What a selfish prick I am. All people, mainly family have done nothing but be kind to me and they always wanted the best for me. What a waste of money I've been as well as time effort. But my thoughts had led me to far astray the way I was raised. Do I remain cheery and prance into tomorrow a fake or do I finally commit suicide. There is absolutely nothing out there for me. I will only bring bad to this world if I continue my existence. I quit and throw in the towel. I'm selfish. Your morning will shed the tears I can't bare. Good Bye Good Bye Good Bye. I will definitely be among you when I'm deceased. Your lives have been truly inspirational I wish to only view them from above. I took seven pills and a codeine laced Tylenol. Come to find out that won't kill me. It takes 20 pills at once and a codeine Tylenol to kill. So, I can't even fucking die right. Whatever. I'm so tired. I am so fucked up. I like to fantasize of young boys. I should fucking die. But no I go day to day torturing myself waiting for something to go fucking right. How the fuck am I going to handle school. I was destined to be a fagot and now a child molester. God, Fuck God. God Hasn't fucking done shit for no one can't you see. Why do I all of a sudden wan't to touch kids. Why would anyone want to do that to a fucking child. They are fucking children. They don't know what the fuck they are doing. Thats just sick sick sick sick sick sick. But I've fucking fantasized. I don't want a fucking license, Job, School, Money, so I fucking write write write about death death death. Do I bring this insanity completely upon myself? Lord Jesus fucking Christ KILL ME Already. Burn me to a crisp in your already God forsaken Hell. There needs to be evil and sorrow in this fucking earth and our family is long over due. There is failure in every fucking family. And I'm it dimble shit. I don't work, fucking have a license. I'm a fucked up mother fucking freak frucked faggot child fucking dement who can no longer live my life. BUT BECAUSE OF some sort of Non existent Blockade to my death wish, I'm tortured alive to my life. FUCK FUCK FUCK. oh mom if your reading this I'm just having a really really really really really bad night. I hope I die tonight even though this isn't enough to kill me. What fucking college. Fucking psychology. This world is an impossible rat race for no existent cheese which my bearers dement me with. Destroy me or let me pull the plug. Let me live and no good I think shall come. So much fucking hate comes from me because I'm just to fucking kind in public and don't stick up for myself. I'm agreeable and that is why I wish I would perish into epiphany and VANISH.

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One might view these two pieces of writing and say I have depression and bi polar disorder. One might attack upon my inability to control myself and turn me into the loony bin. However there is hope and that hope is found where I say I think no good will come if you allow me to live. I think. Thinking is probably the most powerful tool given to man. Granted the Bible says do not eat from the tree of knowledge. I view this as peoples use of intellect for evil instead of good whereas Christians view it as the great sin in which we all participate in and are magically forgiven for.

I apologize for offending religion and bashing it. And I apologize for many things. These two journals can be proof that I am bi polar and have way to many issues to be allowed to walk among others, or this could be a sign everyone has the ability to have moments where they feel they can conquer the world or moments in which they feel the world has abolished their capability to live. Because I haven't made any attempts at suicide or seriously considered suicide or seducing kids since this journal entry I believe much good will come from me. I have to justify myself and feel proud otherwise there would be no legitimacy to my words.

Submitted: May 14, 2010

Memoir death depression gay life hate lesbian bisexual suicide homosexual sexual orientation gblt