I got up angry. I'm pmsing. Great, perfect. Just peachy.
My rats are nasty little critters. They wake us up at night. They can't stay in their cage for too long before they want out, to what? To chewing cables and digging in our plants. Fantastic. The cables are ready to fry them already. They do everything in their power to get to those plants on our windowsill and when they do, they get the soil everywhere. I begin to hate them. Like truly hate them. I don't think I'll cry if one of them gets fried in the end. I feel like I'd probably just shrug it off.
I can't find a job that would suit me. Or any job for that matter. "Think outside the box", what the fuck does that even mean? Therapists. There's no thinking outside the box. I am doing what I can and I turned down some offers because my therapist told me to "not take it if something doesn't feel right" to me. So, well, apparently I'm not suited to even work, because everything fucking either terrifies me or I hate doing something or I'm not good at or I'm not interested in. Fan-fucking-tastic. This is really awesome. It seems my job prospectives are only of that investment company I'm currently working for part time, and even though my boss told me unofficially I might get let's say "promoted" I don't think that'll ever happen. So yay.
The other carrier would be finally writing and publishing that book. But what am I doing all 3 months since my full time job became part time? I waste my time on youtube. I waste my time on kofk. I waste my time trying to find and apply for jobs I'm never gonna get. This is awesome. I'm blocked, I can't even write anything coherent. I can't make myself write. Idunno if I'm stressed, scared, both, none, I don't fucking know. I hate myself. I cried this morning, half an hour after I got up because I fucking feel helpless and hopeless and I just hate my life. I told myself I'll be writing all this time. So far I only looked, read and nothing really came out of it. Or it was so tiny, so insignificant it doesn't even matter anymore. Who cares if I have ideas if I can't write them down? And all I can write is my own fiction. I can't copywrite, I can't write articles, I can't even blog. I thought of making a youtube channel a while ago, about my everyday struggles as.... well, exactly, who? A highly sensitive person? Not really diagnosed. Just a psming woman? Well, that's more likely. An introvert with one thousand social phobias? Perhaps. It still doesn't sound interesting. I see people vlogging. Who cares what's happening in your life? Apparently, people do, because vloggers are popular, for some idiotic reason. Other youtube idea: languages. Except I only speak English enough. Hindi I don't believe I speak. Japanese, same. Swedish, I can barely write and read, not mentioning speaking it. I'm so fucking pathetic. I think and say I'm interested in languages, but hell, I can't learn the ones I'm learning. They just fucking evaporate from my brain. I feel like crying again. Nothing is right. I feel like a failure. I can't even finish that wild knuffel I was making because I'm either blocked or I have the rats out and they're everywhere and they fucking love cables. I'm not hooking up that tablet to my laptop when they're out, I won't, no way.
All I make is excuses. I say I'm trying but it doesn't even feel like it anymore. Wow, I hate this pms, if it makes me cry, it's bad. and it's still 9 days to the date. I fucking hate my life right now.
So, languages. Lyric videos. Anything. It's still not a good idea, I don't think I'd be successful (whatever I'd decide on) and I have no idea how to make money on youtube.
On deviantart it's the same, I have no idea, plus I hate doing things like people tell me to, I get an instant block, so it's awesome. "Oh, you're an artist, you're so creative, why don't you make money on your art?" 1, don't believe your family when they compliment you. Ever. 2, my art isn't really art, it's shit, I can draw in one style, only females, no animals, no action poses, just static ones, I suck at backgrounds, I don't do digital art because I can't figure out that tablet and that program and I don't think I can figure one that's deemed the simplest in the world. 3, I don't think I could write on commissions, and I definitely don't think anyone would pay for my writing, because I suck. Plus I'd get blocked as mentioned before.
Yep, I'm a failure. That's fantastic. And I'm beginning to mix languages I know, fantastic with a K, what an idiot.
Great, now my head hurts from the short, yet intensive and sudden outburst of tears. That's just peachy. I can't even shut up.
I've had some dialogue ideas this morning and did I write them down? Nooooo, for what? No one wants to read it anyway. You're annoying, your style sucks balls and your jokes aren't funny. That's right, you're not funny. Fuck you, go die, the world will be all beter without you.
You know what's the worst? I pity myself and make myself cry. I feel like an attention whore. But I don't really want that much attention, if I would, I'd post it in my hangout. But here people don't really react to other poeple's venting, I don't think anyone reads the stuff that go into this thread but me. I feel like a horiffic horrific (how do you spell that effing word?, ah okay, so I was right from the beginning - see, I even doubt the spelling I have in my head and write things wrong just to check it and see I was right). Where was I? Yes, I feel like a horrific, self-pitying, pathetic little monster who emanates hatred all around. This venting doesn't help that much, I can rant on and on, because I'm so angry and frustrated and desperate and nothing helps, especially those typos I keep making, I hate typos!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm so pathetic. And I can't even make an avi that would be sad and gore enough. Ugh.
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