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January 01, 2010

on new year's eve, i walked my dog, took him through the neighborhood, came back on a bus instead. Asked the driver to turn the lights off, went past the college, every bump was magnified every face stood out more, and then it wasn't so bad

Got into my car and had a distinct sense that I should be with the lady. Kept playing Running to the Edge of the World which is a terrible and cheesy song until I'm vulnerable. And then it is the most beautiful and cheesy song.

Had a distinct sense that it was wrong to be on this precipice without her. I was plunging alone, except I went to get the jewess.

We went to Fort Miley at 10 or so, which I would never do on my own because it's so dark that it looks like no one should be there. I suppose it is allowed since the cops regularly came by to ensure no porking, and they didn't stop us from going onto the path.

As I go deeper into something, as it gets later, my fear grows larger and larger until I am practically immobilized. She shined the light on someone sitting in the dark who didn't move. We were surrounded by woods, and I had a sense of intense vulnerability, of knowing that anyone could be watching me. I'm scared in cemeteries at night, too. but I know if I was really deranged, I would be here.

We went to Ocean Beach, where I called my friend and spit out a line of obscenities at her. She used to be my friend's girlfriend.

We tried to go to Annie's Social Club, but it was too crowded and they weren't letting people in. We met Bob Dole outside, and he followed us to another place. I am glad my blue haired friend turned out to have already left, because I wanted to see her most of all.

We went to some dorm, where this girl I used to want to pork was with her new boyfriend who I was relieved looked like a deranged psychotic with massive acne. It made me feel better about being rejected by her. Like I probably shouldn't take it personally.

Bob Dole and I sat on the couch and texted each other about how we'd like to pork her.

outside people kept shouting out "happy new year" out their windows like birds emitting periodic beeps.

out out out

when I got home, I ended up straight in bed instead of on internet. usually i have to be on internet but my sleepiness won me over, though I did play some Zelda prebed.

My brother has been here, raising hell. He is at an age where he should be developed, but he is stunted in his own growth like I am. He has succeeded at moving out, living on his own, at a young age, whereas I have become more cuccooned. But, he has also destroyed relationships, according to my mother, and he has been in jail for being an asshole. He is frustrated by the situation here, and he blames me, too. I don't think he cares to know about how it affects us. I think he just, feels entitled to this house even though he ran out on it as a teen, and then moved out very early, and then has been far away without visiting for a long time, and then when he does visit he constantly berates us, he makes my mother cry.
Doesn't he know that time is limited. That this is it. If he's going to visit, can't he be nice at least?

he talked to one of our mutual childhood friends about the situation, with the house being filled with crap, about me. i felt embarrassed when I heard this. But the childhood friend knows my secrets already. She and her brother came by and graciously cleaned the entire house, without insulting us once. I tried to tell them that it wasn't going to last, that it would just be filled again, and they still did it.

my brother insults us the whole time, even when I am helping him. I got fed up and called him a faggot asshole. I got fed up and hid in my room

I talked to my ex ex ex ex ex gf about how we peed in bottles as teens, and I felt weird about that, like how weird teenagers are. but having my brother here reminded me of what it's like to have a force much larger than yourself that pushes you around and determines everything for you. It makes me shut into myself, it makes me hide.

My brother always treated me like he hated me as a child. For a childhood photo, he gripped my shoulder extremely hard so I would smile. So there is a picture of us I don't like, because of that. When he was a teenager, he would always be off with his friends and one time I distinctly remember saying hi, and he treated me like I was an idiot because I didn't know how to talk to people. And then he left to work on his career(s) and I stayed. Even though I do photography, I've never once heard from someone who knows him, who is interested in my work. I've been miserable in this house, and I've been working through my problems alone. And now here comes the civilized man to tame the savages, because he knows better than any of us, because in all his wisdom, he has determined that we need someone to come in on Monday to analyze us. He offers help in the form of condescension, in the form of hatred. If he was compassionate, I would appreciate it. He is not compassionate. I don't think he cares about us. He cares about the house he has left behind.

He got it out of me that I've been doing some work on the side for some money, and he actually used that against me. He gave me shit for doing work for money without doing similar work in the house.
Why should I?? This house asphyxiates. It kills me! And I want to learn to be an adult. I want to make money so I can maybe grow. He doesn't know that I have obsessive compulsive disorder, that leaving the house is already a chore for me, and that any time I'm out of the house is a relief because I can be myself. And he gives me shit because I don't spend more time inside, working on this insurmountable giant turd. Why the fuck doesn't he stay here then instead of moving to the East Coast? If it means so much?

because it doesn't mean anything to him, he just wants to control us. I think.

he doesn't know anything.