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October 10, 2016

When the water washes over me, I often feel like I'm forgiven. I feel like I am being purified, and everything wrong about me is overlooked or accepted. By no one in particular. Maybe God.

In the gym shower today, I just was on a circular trip with reminders of pain just pummeling me. Maybe it began when I thought about how if I worked five days a week, finding an affordable home would be a challenge, even if I didn't have to eat or pay my phone bill or do whatever.
I think it must have happened then, that the shower stopped soothing me and instead I seemed to be circling the drain like all the fucking filth in the bathroom, like all the fucking filth on me. I mean I guess the shower itself wasn't bad. But this feeling of unending past wrongs. The feeling of victimization. Helplessness. Worthlessness.

I thought of that, how difficult it is to live here, how I don't have a plan.
I'm just trying to make enough to afford gas and food and fun. Even if I sacrificed all those things, I wouldn't make enough. And I've been skimping on the fun. At least the social kind. I really need socialization.
I don't like working retail and this job is a lot like retail. The last girl that left me, I didn't like how she talked to retail employees a lot. I know how awful it is to be at the frontlines of a business, enforcing policies you may not agree with but its your job and people are so cruel because they know you can't respond in kind, and they don't think of the nature of business, which is that someone above the one you're talking to is profiting and deciding what happens and the person at the counter is just there to survive essentially.
What's fortunate about my job is I can tell people to fuck off.
But I don't want to have encounters where that is the highlight. People give me shit for just telling them what the park policies are. One person asked what my problem is with dogs and I explained that my saying this stuff to him has nothing to do with my personal beliefs. But it's like they can't understand that or choose not to. I really would probably follow up that the reason I'm wearing these stupid ill fitting khakis and this stupid coat that makes me look even fatter than I am is because I'm trying to afford to live in a car. I'm not even trying to afford an apartment because how can I. Where the fuck do you live sir do you get to sleep in a bed at night go fuck yourself and your dog too.

I've seen affordable rooms with people who practically or maybe actually do require you be queer or gender fluid of some bullshit. Like you have to identify as what the fuck they are or you'll be deprioritized. I don't identify as cis or male or female and I don't care what I'm called but I would never call myself queer because it's as pathetic and shapeless a term as the sacks that subscribe to it. It's as spineless as calling oneself spiritual. It's meaningless.

I thought of all that just now, not earlier, so I guess I'm still circling the drain.
Earlier I thought about my mom putting me out into this world I can't afford. I thought of the girl left me for essentially being victimized and not pulling myself up by my bootstraps. I thought of the friends who no longer talk to me because some woman who blew her brains out with lsd as a kid claims I uploaded scandalous video of her to the internet. And none of what she said even made sense because yes there was a video of both of us clothed and being somewhat inappropriate and it was online but it wasn't hidden from her and was announced to her, but two or three years later she found it again and it's like she has dementia and forgot. And it was after I removed it that she decided to talk all her shit. The only time she didn't talk shit was when I was fucking her. I've fucked some real garbage these past few years and it's never worth it.

I thought about that.

I thought about the bathroom at home seemingly being available until all my things were removed and then it wasn't.
I feel sick in the morning and sometimes in the middle of the night because I just want to shit. Today I masturbated which fucked my schedule up. But I did it because that kind of makes it harder to shit your pants.

I'm late for work.
I'm on the train.
It feels like there's only work.

I'm looking for a nice gamepad for my phone. So I can play GTA vice city. Because there's no room for a PlayStation anymore, and I'm just about settling into this existence of sleeping in a driveway.