I'm twenty four years old and I still am not above crying like a giant pussy.

I'm way too emotional. Women make it worse. I absorb way too much.

My anxiety has been terrible. Haven't drank since Tuesday. Haven't taken pills since Thursday. It's for the best but fuck. All I have is pot and it often is overpowered by all the rest of the shit I'm feeling. Can't wait until I'm better...

Will you still love me after I

My life seriously sucks so bad that I don't even bother writing melo posts about the specifics. It's too embarrassing to even type out some of the shit I do, and what I put up with. Let's just say I live a completely miserable existence where I allow myself to continue to be nothing while seeming fine with being shit on constantly by someone just because she has a vagina I like more than others.

FML!

I guess some things really can cure heart break.

Why must I want what I can’t have?
Am I really all that fucking bad?
Feel it deep inside me, such a drag,
Always want what I can’t have.

You made this feeling inside grow,
Certainly helped me break the mold,
My life was shattered before you came.
And now it’s all the same.
I guess I just cannot provide,
What you need to feel alive.
It’s hard to fake when all I feel,
Is based on something, never real.

Why must I want what I can’t have?
Was my presence so damn bad?
Feel it deep inside me, such a drag,
Always want what I can’t have.

I tricked us both, to make you mine,
Although it didn’t take long to find.
My mind is weak, my heart is cold,
Who wants misery as they get old?
I must escape these thoughts of mine.
Convince myself I’m doing fine.
Fake a smile, and fall in line,
Just find the strength, one more time…

Why must I want what I can’t have?
Were my dreams too good to grab?
Always want what I can’t have.
And now I’m stuck holding the bag.


Lyrics are meant for a Pretty Hate Machine late 80s era industrial sound.

The whiskey on his breath, his hand on a bottle.
The blood on his knuckles from all kinds of trouble.
The nights he

Well, a very good friend of mine, although I didn't know him terribly long, and a friend of my wife's for over 10 years killed himself on Thursday. We found on Saturday when his sister finally tracked down my wife's number. He had been very depressed, especially lately, about a divorce and all that comes with it. We had been inviting him over more lately because we knew he was really down, but didn't fully realize how troubled because we both didn't believe he'd actually kill himself.

Last Friday, my wife and I were watching my parent's dogs at their house, and we invited Sean over to watch a movie. We watched Juno. He didn't talk much the entire time, and the little he did, he seemed very mean and odd. He literally kicked one of my parents chihuahuas off his foot and was being very fucked up in general. My wife and I got angry with him, although didn't show it, and decided afterwards we were going to cool off on the friendship for a little bit because he was causing drama and didn't seem to even be looking for help. The next couple days when he sent us texts we told him we were sick and couldn't hang out.

We didn't hear from him for a couple days and figured he was just doing better. He would often send us texts, my wife especially, that were very melodramatic. He seemed to be seeking attention. He had cut himself, first claimed it was something else, and then later admitted it to us. Both my wife and I got the strong vibe he was just looking for attention, especially from her. We didn't know how to react and felt like he was trying to make our relationship strained because his worked out so badly. It was very hard to understand some of his behavior and off-hand comments. We got a text Saturday morning from his sister, saying to call her A.S.A.P. We both knew it was bad. I could hear through the phone, as my wife held it, his sister say "Sean took his own life". It was such a punch to the stomach, so unreal, so beyond words... It was awful. My wife wept like I've never seen. I did too. It was truly heartbreaking.

Now, we both feel very guilty. We tried to tell the other one, probably hoping to convince ourselves at the same time, that it isn't our fault. But it might be. If we had just been a little more understand, not so quick to just want to avoid drama, he might've gotten the help to hang on a little bit longer. I guess I'll never know but now I'm left with guilty that will remain with me until I die.

I lost respect for him over all this, though, I must say. He devastated so many people. He didn't own a gun, so his way to kill himself was by going to a shooting range here in Phoenix and renting one. He shot at targets for an hour before putting the gun up to his head and blew his brains out. There were people nearby who saw it happen, the horror that must've been. The cops refused to tell his mother exactly how the scene looked after it happened, one would just say "it's the grossest thing you'll ever see in your life." I know people who kill themselves quickly, like from a gun shot, often get a phenomenon called a Death Erection, where they actually get a hard-on after death and ejaculate. Many are often known to shit themselves. The reason he didn't want to describe it, in my head unfortunately, means he very well might've ended up laying in a shooting stall, with his head and brains all over, erection in his pants that he ejaculated into, and in his own shit. It's a horrible thing to think about but I can't help it. What a horrible way to go. The poor person's job it is to look at that... let alone clean up.

And now he's gone forever. "He was a good man and now he's gone..."

Funeral is on Thursday.