So I guess this is Hell...

I have this delusion people are looking for me. Maybe they are. I use the same screennames, pretty much. I actually met a guy from an online game in real life. Always losing guys to strippers. Sigh. Lost a few to strippers. I wonder if I'll ever meet someone interested in me. Michael was hurting me earlier. I guess he doesn't like that I am really a guy. We had fun last night, what happened? I really don't know. We were listening to the Classic Rock station, and he was telling me he hasn't listened to that type of music in a long time. Mkultra actually MADE ME go lay down in the front room. I'm not asking much, I just want a nice guy with a little bit of a money, a job, and a car. They'd all rather fuck around, be degenerates. I wish I were a guy, fuck. They seem to have more fun and exciting experiences. This is so dull. I don't have the life I had in me anymore.

There's a joke that a guy would fall or the man in a dress if he thinks DiGornio is delivery.

Michael said he fell for the DiGornio. Oh well. 

Feel like God's embarrassed of me. Why doesn't he just say something to me about hard times.

When things aren't good. I am traumatized, and nervous, and possibly could bring an uprising against this God. He's made sure I had a place to stay, and money, cigarettes, and that's more than he does for some people. I guess. 

I really wish I was dead. I am sick of living life everyday in this prison, HUD. I have no money, and nothing to do, and no friends. I am a miserable bastard. Hate everything about myself, always looking for something better. I'm overweight, kinda, a bit chubby, to say the least, and Michael made sure that I ate... He always does. :) At least he does that. Just making sure I don't fall sick, or die, probably.

"It's more than that. I do love you."

Liar... You don't.

Think God wants to end it, too, and it's kind of a big deal. 

This is soo boring, omfg. I wanted to write about the issues I was having, and how I was feeling. But everything just feels like RX. Pills, pills, pills. So many of them. I have DID, and schizoaffective, depression, anxiety. Schizoaffective is bipolar/manic depression. My doctor never allows me to be manic, the least bit hyper. I am secretly taking stackers to stay awake everyday, just doing enough chores to barely skate by, but the house is disgusting and I'm miserable. I really am. I just wish I were dead. I really do. God, do you hear me? I want to fucking die. 

I mean, I feel the damn Giraffe from the Madasgcar movie. With all the pill bottles.And phobias. And syndromes.

They destroyed my mind, my so called family, my so called friends. Some kind of RITE OF PASSAGE, getting loaded all the time, and drunk; we drank everyday like f'ing alcoholics. Now I can hardly stand alcohol. It really got me messed up, now I want to run away, I need a friend or something to escape with. I can't live here anymore, throwing my life away. I wonder what Adam is doing. I wonder if I could go with him. My brain is barely functioning, so I am typing a lot of I SENTENCES. I. DON'T CARE. IT'S my blog, whatever. So .... no one reads it anyway. Except for one person. 

Had pizza for dinner, I'm cute, but I feel like a real creep. My hands, feel long, and whipping. And my eyes feel sinister, and my fingernails are sharp points. I used to have long hair, but I felt traumatized and cut it all off, also got taken by an alien, but talking to these people, you have to try to convince them aliens are real. I need to start talking out loud more, because I'm going quiet. I hardly make a sound. It's just some pathetically etched out existance, and I want to go home. My dad's teacher said he was kinda a genius. My mom, I can't talk to her about anything. None of this intellectual stuff, or philosophy, anything, she just cares about money. She has a pool, and a brand new Traverse SUV. She works hard, though, for her money, and refuses to spend more than necessary on anything.

I wonder if I'm "giving up." It was a struggle to even get in the tub, it'd be an act of kindness if someone were to end my life... I am on four required medications, with four optional. I am quite bizarre, I guess, and I don't make sense to others, even other TI's call me unnecessary and a freak, even other abused people. I am trying to make myself more spiritual, and "shine" like I used to, but I sense Osiris telling me it's okay, not to glow, to go unnoticed. He says he leads a boring life, to boring for the government to be interested. Meanwhile, I wanted to discover the unknown. Maybe I always felt an oppressive feeling by the government. I don't know what the right way to do is, maybe just leave people alone. We're just doing our best, with what little understanding we have, I don't think anyone really knows for sure what they are doing, and here is where I WISH I were autistic, because I had some great writer friends with amazing opinions and wording for such things.

Asmodeus is standing by the door. I guess he gets how fucked up things can be. Someone said we're related. I miss how things used to be. I don't know what I'm talking about. He's knocking things down. I don't even know anymore, I can't remember everything, just bits and pieces. Something lightly hit me in the head. I did something sort of wrong, I guess.... He knows every fucked up, nerdy, stupid thing I've done, and still hangs around, how fucking weird and bizarre I am. I really don't know, we are like two opposites, I was a kid left alone on the internet. Now there are a WHOLE BUNCH of weirdos out there, and I didn't even feel like touching my phone today. 

You're not a nerd, you're just dumb.

That's what he says to me, just now, I am sorry he went through so much pain, he's probably suffered and cried more than I have. I think he is so very strong. I wish I were :( I can withstand a lot, my left hemisphere of my brain is malfunctioning, lol, something is going on in there with all of these drugs. Sigh, mine, theirs, ours. He's insulting me, and I'm complimenting him. Maybe I was envious the whole time, but I don't think so. Woa, it became italic by itself. Ok, anyway, maybe it was my manic depression, I mean does this shit follow you into your next life? Maybe, maybe not? I guess if you use drugs and continue doing the same shit, it might. 

It feels even more lonely with Asmodeus here. Like he's making me feel cold, and isolated. 

I'M  SORRY I HURT YOU, I WAS MAD AT YOU FOR PLAYING ALL THOSE GIRLS. 

What about all of them? I just got pissed at you, even though I was another guy. Couldn't you just admit you were wrong? 

ok anyway. conversation with asmodeus...

Well he called me dumb. It used to be effortless to make A's on my high school tests, or any through out any grade, but, I can't do math. An alien prevented my ability, anyway, he said I was figuring out the problems too quickly. Yeah.Zorak. ASMODEUS KNOWS ALL THIS STUFF, YOU DON'T HAVE TO KEEP REMINDING ME. anyway, Im a fucking guy, wtf am I doing with all of this shit. I wasnt a very good guy, anyway, I said I feel evil. Maybe I was hiding this whole time, some bastard told me he saw straight through me, I guess I had impulses that needed to be met, or something, mostly to get high. Not anything bad, just weed. I don't know, I don't want to look at this anymore.