merry christmas, damnit

youtube doesnt have the gumby christmas special. fail.

marry christmas, dammit!

letters

its valentines day and the rain comes down on us as we hold each other in the back yard. whats to become of us in the future? ive never felt this way about anyone or anything... she writes to me everyday. its amazing that i get wonderful mail from her. you know its love when two people can bullshit for hours about nothing. shes amazing and shes letting me become a part of her life. she chose me when no one ever did.
yet, nothing ever lasts. you become greedy and want more. that unconditional love turns to rage and jealousy. how can it be love if you hardly ever get to see the one you love? love is just a word. i love you. always and forever. the pet names, the giggles, the little things you share at night... its all a phase. youll forget and well both move on. there is no such thing as happily ever after.
ive kept every letter thats been dropped into my life. ive kept yours in a special place because they are still special to me after all this time. for so long we pour our hearts to paper. ink stains on our hands. youd giggle and id feel like heaven. i could dream about you all day at work. songs on the radio. mix tapes. two people in love.

and now all thats left are remnants of something long forgotten.

perhaps a story for another day...

so fucking true

hi, im shaun and im a blockbuster employee. i worked there ten years ago and now im back again. im over worked and under paid. my manager is pretty cool though, on the plus side. you would think that things have changed since the days of VHS, but it hasnt. we bust our ass, so you can break our balls when you come in. people have this strange facination with renting. they have to rent. THEY HAVE TO. and when they do, their brain doesnt work. not only do i get shit from upper management, but from the people who shop there who constantly have attitude. they dont want to be there as much as we do so there is double animosity when these brain dead lemmings come to the counter. i repeat myself EVERYDAY. i know the policy so fucking well because i have to tell just about every tardmonkey that comes through the door. i dont have the time to get into the whole member owned video, i cant seem to EVER return my fucking video on time rant.

we had some moron come in yesterday and talk about getting a lawyer over seventeen dollars. and he made a scene over policy. seriously.

i cannot stress the absolute stupidity of customers at blockbuster. seriously. its like theres a pheromone corporate releases into the vents each day to make people just as fucking stupid as them. (my DM wanted our store to "scatter" giftcards all over the counter, creating a fucking mess. customers ask: "lemme guess, kids?" nope. district fucking manager.) this vid, some one who is now my hero, got a dipshit on camera for not having his card or ID (which happens 98% of the time). and the kicker? EVERYONE thinks we can look up by phone number. as far as i know, not in the last ten years. oh, they always, ALWAYS have their hollywood video card. go figure.



and when they get mad, they think they know EVERYTHING. guess what? YOU DONT. go fuck yourself. assclown.

in closing i just want to say: congratulate yourself for failing at life so bad you need to take it out on me. boo hoo the movie you want to watch isnt in. cry me a river because you dont have enough responsibility to take FIVE FUCKING DAYS to watch a movie and return it on time, so you keep it for a month and think its ok to return it. im sorry youre too cheap to rent a $1.99 movie, or actually pay for anything for that matter. im sorry you NEVER have your ID with you, tell it to the cops when they pull you over. give yourself a pat on the back, buy a gun, put it in your mouth, and pull the fucking trigger. do me the favour so i dont do it to myself because of your shenanigans.
thank you and good night.

oh and merry fucking christmas. i asked santa for a heart attack. if that wasnt possible i asked him to bring me the end of the world.
i think all i got was jeans...

Shattered Dreams

you look out the window. you see birds at the feeder. you see clouds coming in from the bay. you see the sun fade away. you go through all the things youve kept. you get sad songs. you can hear every instrument. you stay up late at night and wonder why. you watch movies that shouldnt make you cry until the sun comes up. you wonder whats left after sitting on your bed for 3 hours staring at the floor. you drink. you sleep. you wonder why anyone would want to be your friend. you try and fill the void with anything you can. you stop caring. you try to forget. you mask sadness with anger. you throw away all your drawings again. you try to write something but your mind is blank. you shut off. you shut down. you dont answer your phone. you dont call anyone. you burn all your bridges. you dont care about anyones problems. you read. you dont set goals. you give up hope. you still dream of those better days. you still think your chance will come.

you still dream.
you still remember.
you lose sight of it all.
you let yourself go.

ive wondered what ive been doing for the last 3 years...

Johnny Hates Jazz- Shattered Dreams

more than this

everyday that goes by feels like an eternity of crap.
next month would have been 4 years with some one i thought loved me. and after months of thinking, all the things we said, did... its clear that shes not only moved on, but never really cared. she catered to my needs to keep me hopeful. she needed a break from her normal life and i was that escape. when i was no longer needed i was pushed way off to the side.

i thought i had found the perfect girl. i was convinced she existed. i thought nothing could come between two people in love. but like always, i was the only one in love.

like everyone else shes become a cold soulless person. the girl i once knew, so funny, so smart, so cute in everything she did, has become disenchanted with everything.

to the girl who asked me to marry her, to the girl who made me feel like a real person for so long, to the girl who i thought was one in a million, merry christmas. thanks for taking the last best moments of my life, and most of all, thank you for beating me down and making me feel at my lowest during a time i needed you the most.

how the end... always is...


disintegration- the cure


more than this- the cure

chalupa

so i was a bit amused the other night when i was looking for funny stuff to watch on youtube with my brother. drive by insults is pretty classic. but i found one with a kid yelling at his mom for like a half hour over xbox live for a chalupa. it made me LUL.

back to old sad bastard music and wondering why i NEVER can seem to get a day off. no wonder i turn off my phone...


my new theme song

torture

i have this sick facination with tormenting myself. i supose the more i do it, the more i will hopefully get my shit together. its not working.

everyday that i wake up brings me one step closer to hitting bottom. one step closer to taking a whole bottle or five of whatever is in the cabinet.
and as christmas draws near, and every day that i have to go to work i prepare myself for the enevitable. theres nothing left for me anymore. ive let myself go.

i cant even get drunk anymore.