Head Trip Trilogy 2010: A Odd Look at the 5th Stage of Grief

Am I in a better place than I was nine to 10 years ago?

I have not bumped in four years and I ran away from all the social interactions I had. That's Bad!

The job(s) are good and I am writing more. That's Good!

My writing is less focused (it's like I don't have the strength to be angry) and I am definitely not satisfied. That's Bad!

I have a crazy girlfriend (to date me, it is a prerequisite) and I realize the only way is forward. That's Good!

Everything is unknown when it comes to my fate, and I have accepted that. The lack of control still drives me not, so that may only be a conscious statement. If anything, I am romanticizing about my demise instead of actively wishing for it.

What is really bad is that my obsessive compulsive disorder leads me to feel that I need to even out the page layouts of my old blogs. My amusement with the metaphors of destruction makes it seem worthwhile to take a trip back to the fourth stage of grief.

Hopefully most of these will stay on headtrip309.blogspot.com, but I will make no promises. No need to want to break free if you can stay that way to begin with. Sorry Freddy.

Thanks for the abandonment assholes

I thought I had written in my last blog that I need people to just accept the fact that I am fucking hopeless. To tell me just to fuck off. I forgot that I'm so much easier to just fucking ignore.

Hey, I'm sorry that most of the shit I blog about is how shitty my life is. Sorry you won't take the time to accept that this is more than a pity trip. Just fuck me for my opinion pieces being dedicated to ICC's school newspaper that won't fucking help itself.

The world is fed up with me, I should get that, but again I hate relying on fucking implications.

Sorry if it fucking pains you to say it, but just say it. You can even apologize with it.

We are sorry that this is true, but you are a fucking loser, and we can't stand you bitching about it.

What the fuck? Three years of this shit, and you keep fucking lying to yourselves. Fuck, you keep lying to me.

I'm sorry I can't please all of you and fucking lie to myself. I'm an asshole, I've accepted that, so I may as well be a self righteous one.

Let it be 2010 because 2012 is too far away.

No, it's not a resolution. With my depressed mood, I'd like it to be a documentation till extinction. Saves on writing a suicide not.

So I've been assigned my work station which is pretty much out on it's own. Yes, this should be a good thing when you dislike most people, but when you don't have any friends and positive social interaction is a necessity, I'm plenty fucked.

A lot of you may interpret this as a fuck you, but it's more of a compliment. Why would anyone want to hang out with this downer? This isn't blame either. I put myself in a position where I have no real connections. Still, there is kind of a feeling that I've been given up on by those who can actually hang out with, but that ain't right since all of you have moved on to better things.

Right now, I'm stuck in a house where socialism is a cuss word for the next month. By the time I move out, it'll be coming up on my 30th birthday. So the future is alone and dealing with my impotence as a human being that has ruled my life since adolescence.

All I got are stories, but there is absolutely no one to tell them to. It is about time to get canceled.

It now makes me think about why the fuck am I even writing when the audience has gone. I'm the definition of insanity. And since nobody will read this, no one will be kind enough to get me committed.

I do have to ask, "Am I no longer the lovable loser?" because that would explain the abandonment. I can't even be hopeful for this world. If I've been written of for it, the Cubs will surely follow.

Fuck this Soxciety.

imgur.com - "A dump a day keeps the crippling depression at bay," pt. 1

What needs to be changed?

Obviously my environment? I can't justify developing my next website idea while I only have a week left before moving out.

Attitude towards my job? Only in the idea that I should just say, "If you don't think I'm working out, fire me now, and I'll respect you for it sense." With ideas that are coming to mind for my extreme leftist blog, it would be best to handle me this way instead of waiting till I'm stuck with a fucking lease.

My abrasive nature...really? People still have a sense of humor right, or is everything taken personally? Am I just a shitty guy to introduce to people?

Or am I just shitty looking? With the baby-face there are times when I think I look too much like Private Pile from "Full Metal Jacket." I'm to the point where I'd appreciate an AM-16 for my birthday.

Again, the abrasive attitude. Again, I swear no one has a sense of humor anymore. How many people find the last paragraph creepy? What? Can't make jokes about being D'Onofrio to myself?

Also feel like I may need a change in friends. Come on. I've been a bit more optimistic of late, but I've been left high and dry on feedback. Fuck, it really feels like I've been abandoned to a fate that no one has a set to tell me I'm about to face.

Right now, my life maybe moving a step forward, but that may only be a step closer to a ledge. I'm an offbeat immature freak, and there isn't going to much left for me after this next step. And I'm still not sure if that ledge will crumble beneath me.