over the weekend, saturday in particular, i had a complete mental breakdown. i, a semi-functioning member of society, was reduced in the blink of an eye to a cradled child. rocking back and forth, hands clasped around my knees. only because i had to reflect on my own actions, which depressed me to a point were contious thought was a challenge. i can't take living anymore. it has really escalated to the point of which i want to die. the only thing that brings me some relief is my girlfriend. who, while i love her, is a factor in my depression and stress. this is normal though, expected even, in a relationship with anyone. i believe that i may have multiple personalities. which explains a minimum amount of things, but only leaves me with more questions that i, alone, cannot answer. i am not healthy. i fear death, but at the same time i embrace it. i don't want to become another faceless statistic.

test

i don't think i should eat nachos anymore. that don't really sit well with me. taco bell is my sworn enemy at this point. my butt has given up and refuses to tell me when it feels like poo'ing. this is my life aka jim's everything-i-ever-didn't-want-to-happen-to-me: the mini series.

this is my personal pain online. Why do you read this? do I alter my thoughts because I know someone may read this? do i, nay, should I care? i was looking at a picture of me today, whilest i updated my website and I thought...who is that? I can't comprehend that pictures are moments frozen in time on film. It is begining to become really hard (more so than normal) for me to see the line between reality and fiction. oh how this does suck. I listen to Journey and pretend that it's 1988 again. Not that it was a good year, but that's the year I had to become aware of the world, at 6. do you know what a concept the "WORLD" is? especially to a child? I'm a strong human being only for the fact I haven't killed someone or myslef yet. One minute everything is yours and the next your life falls apart. no joke here, no pun, no comical "dennis miller-esque" quip, just plain old fashioned depression on a grandious scale. for me reality is just a dream.

so last night I had a b-day party for myself at the Face Death house in Greensburg. It was the absolute best birthday party I have ever had. I was so rocked on so many things that it was amazing I was breathing. Just goes to show you the through my naive thinking I can convince myself that I am invincible. I don't know when i'll die, but I know that when I do...I can tell St. Peter i had a good life and he can do with me what he pleases. If God is all knowing, then he knows that I am a good person at heart, i just loves the drink!

are you listening to me?

fuck your miriad of mindless atomitons. you can't solve my problems or heal my wounds. your cities sicken me, rittled with filth and disregard for humanity.
I am so sick today, i've got heart burn (from my acid reflux) that would drop an elephant. i just want to die today.

life...as we konw it...sucks. it sucks badly. i make $1600 a month. I can barely afford to eat after all my bills are paid off. and its not like i've got a bunch of stuff that i spend my money on, just car, insurance, apartment, lights, tv, gas, laundro-mat and food. i have not bought new clothes in like 4 months. and i don't wear boxers any more becuase it literally costs too much to wash them. i wear the same socks for 3 sometimes 4 days in a row. this is the "best country in the world"? Well it isn't. It fucking sucks. So don't ever ask me why I get stoned or drink alot. It's because I don't have the strength as a human being to wade through the river of shit called my life. Anyone of you who would call me weak or stupid or immature can go fuck yourself.

listen up. your government is lying to you, and has been systematically doing so since 1951. If you really want to freeze the funds of terrorists so they can't buy weapons...stop buying GAS! This information isn't even "epiphany" type stuff. The middle east (Iraq and Afghanistan included) thrive off our money. This is basic economics (imports and exports). If you support America and you buy Gas you are a hippocryte. I do not support America, so I am free in my concious to buy Gas and oil based products. The "War on Terrorism" is nothing but a public relations farse. "Of course he's crazy, He tried to kill my father", George W. Bush on Suddam Hussein. At least 3 people I know have attempted to kill my father, that doesn't make them crazy and I am certainly not spending 1.3 billion dollars in trying to blow these would be assasin's up. I hate to break it to GWB but alot of people would've like to (and some still do) see Bush Sr. 6 feet under. The CIA attempted (5 times) to kill Fiedel Castro, the failed all 5 times, but by GWB's logic the entire CIA is crazy....well maybe he is right. I am so fed up with "9/11" and this back slapping "ain't America great!" mentality. We are murderer's, theive's, and charlatan's. The Egyptians had their time, so did the Romans. America's time is slowly fading, it's a sad state of affairs in that we do not want to bow out gracefully. America will go down fighting and constantly opposing common sense for Political Correctness and leaving behind a legacy of backwater commercialism. I'm moving to Canada, they've got pot and beer. I can get fat and lazy, taxes are a little more expensive but at least I'll be living in a Matrix-esque fantasy world.

the drummer sings...
over and over and over again, this orwellian chaos, can follow me to the end. charmatic exchanges that seem to fall short of "complete". this comatose state i dwell in controls me, produces me, follows me. can we meet in a different time, another life. your confessions from a place i'll never know, lay me supine with envy. complete your impression to the ones who mean nothing, implicate those who mean everything. twist your knife, salt my wounds, and kick me when i fall.

so someone hit my car on wednesday morning. they left no note, who would? but they did about $600-$1200 worth of damage to the left side of my car. am i mad? yeah. am i vengful? kinda. do i care? not really. its just a car, a device that moves me from point A to point B, with a stop to point A.5 sometimes. i think i know who did it, but i can't locate the person. it's a woman who drives a blue camaro. the longer it takes me to find her, the better. if i would've seen her leaving the scene of the accident, i would be in jail now for assault with a deadly weapon. but i did not see her leaving and i just kinda staired at the mashed remains of my doors and shrugged it off. i got into my car, the doors oddly enough work fine, and turned up "reign in blood" by slayer, then took out my aggression on the poor steering wheel. if GM does one thing right, it's making steering wheels that can take a severe beating. that night, instead of wallowing in my hatred of (a)people (b) that woman, i decided to play a nice game of Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 4 for the xbox. this video game features a skateboarder by the name of rodney mullen. he is my jesus. i worship him on an alter rivaling that of the holy catholic church. if it weren't for me wanted to see his new skateboarding tricks so badly, i would've probably fallen into the depression induced bowls of a black nightmare. so thank you rodney. and fuck you chick with blue camaro, i hope your soul is tortured throughout eternity.

[short stories with tragic endings - from autumn to ashes]
Here you stand seething with guilt.
Silence only justifies this act of cowardice.
The look stapled on your face cries out for forgiveness,
the one thing that I cannot give you.

(Did you ever see that one person
and the way they do these things
and it hurts so much it's like choking.. choking?)

I can give you freedom from your guilt,
with a flick of my wrist onto yours.
I can give you peace of mind with a forced smile.

I can give you death with the look upon my face.

This is your freedom in a life of fallacy,
with no last kiss & no regrets;
you don't deserve good bye.
This is your freedom in a life of fallacy,
with no last kiss & no good bye.

Here you stand seething with guilt.
Silence only justifies this act of cowardice.
With a short story, the one you add to daily, you are the tragic loss.
No story book ending for this fairy tale of you.
Just the one composed with blood taken from your pen that you hold in your lifeless hand.
Cry for you. Shed tears. Mourn. Wish the end.

(Did you ever look, did you ever see that one person,
and the subtle way that they do these things and it hurts so much?
So much it's like choking down the embers of a great place.
It's that moment when your eyes seem to spread aspersions
and to scream confessions at the insipid sky parting clouds.
You let this one person come down on the most perfect moment.
And it breaks my heart to know the only reason you are here now is a reminder of what I'll never have..
I'll never have.. I'll never...
Standing so close knowing that i kills me to breathe you in..
standing so close knowing that it kills me to breathe you in.
But this table for one has become bearable.
I now take comfort in this, and for this, I cherish you.
Did you ever look, did you ever see that one person
and the subtle way that they do these things and it hurts so much?
So much it's like choking down the embers of a great palce.
It's that moment when your eyes seem to spread aspersions
and to scream confessions at the insipidsky parting clouds.
And you let this one person come down.. come down. I cherish you.. I cherish you.
Just say that you would do the same for me..
just say you would do the same..
just say you would do the same for me.
For as much as I love Autumn,
I'm giving myself to Ashes.)

after yesterday i have come to this conclusion: i am one bad ass mother fucker.