::Let Me Clear My Throat::

I remember my decision to not blog for a while.  As it happens, I have had too much wine tonight and frankly I don't give a shit about anything right now, so inhibitions be damned. I'll probably have mixed feelings tomorrow, but lets be real: I CONSTANTLY have mixed feelings about something.   Back to the wine. So, yeah..I never actually drink by myself, but with the shitstorm I'm caught up in these days, it was either get fucking drunk alone or stab the first person who stands in my way. Hurricane Sandy ain't got shit on this girl right now. I'm..tired. I'm tired of drama, tired of issues, tired of failing.  As soon as I crawl out of a hole and find the light, the ground beneath me gives way and I'm right back where I started. In the dark. Clawing my way back out. AGAIN. Unless you've actually been in this position, you couldn't imagine how fucking exhausting this is, and no amount of positive thinking or changes in scenery are enough to alleviate

I've decided that I'm not gonna blog anymore-at least not for a while. I have mixed feelings about having the contents of my twisted mind on public display, and the so-called 'catharsis' blogging is supposed to bring doesn't keep the demons at bay for long.  There's alot going on inside me right now, and part of me wants to leave it in a puddle on these pages, but then the rest asks 'why bother?' because I know it won't make me feel any better, and the issues will still be there when I hit 'Publish'.  Truth be told, most of what I'm dealing with is already weaved thru this blog, but I've just said it so many times that I'm tired of addressing it.  I'm sort of over myself at this point.  Curling into a ball and shutting out the world just seems like a more attractive option to me now, so that's where I'll be. TTFN.

Sometimes I sit back and examine my life, and I wonder if I just royally fucked up somewhere, or if I truly was just handed a raw fucking deal.  Call me pessimistic, but I think I'll go with the latter. Nothing is ever simple.  Everything has to be tangled and backwards and complicated. I'm always getting buried, and no matter how many times I attempt to crawl out of that hole, something else comes along and kicks me back in.  Again, I try, and again, I fail. Epically. Miserably.  I feel like I'm stuck on a hamster wheel...running and running but never actually getting anywhere.

: Before I begin, I would like to state for the record that since my last post, my celibacy remains intact, despite the night that Flaco spent in my bed last week.  I am that damn awesome, and I will absolutely take that cookie, thankyouverymuch.: Tonight's entry is brought to you by the word "Troubled", and also by the phrase "Melancholy Bitch Slap".  Follow along if you dare. I am...utterly confused.  I don't know how else to word it.  I just don't understand.  Allow me to gloss over a few details to make this jibber-jabbering mess look like English. There's a boy, called "D".  A small piece of this is about him in particular, but mostly about boys in general when it comes to me.  D and I met through a friend over a year ago, but I never had a lot of interest, so we didn't talk much. Two weeks ago he texted me out of the clear blue after months of not talking, and immediately we clicked like a couple of magnets. We talked non stop