| | 10327 | | I have so much potential to love someone. But I can not find anyone that does not piss me off and annoy me, to say nothing of being able to love me and I her. I am so lonely. Sometimes I would almost be willing to die for simple human contact. I want nothing more than just to hold a warm feminine body in my arms. But I keep cutting myself off from any human interaction. The more I crave to be with others the farther away I push myself from them. And I know exactly why. It is because I also crave power. The power to kill. To inflict pain. I know where to get this power. And it pushes me even farther away from everyone else. It may take away any chance I have at love. It may kill me. But after living such a life, one of death and destruction, devoid of any love for or from anyone, is it even worth being alive? Are you even human any more? | | | | | 10326 | | I'm mad at the people on a website that I go to. They are giving me shit. The didn't read my postings carefully before responding. They don't know the background. I don't want to be restricted to platitudes or risk being misundertood. It sucks. I had some bad feelings thrown at me. There are some people that deserved a retort and I gave it. I got shit for that. It never looks good to retaliate but restricting myself to what looks good would suck too much. So I did it. fur flied. Kind of. I did the best I could. You have to be yourself in life. I can't let people treat me that badly. So I did. I'm mad right now and disappointed, fur flew. Bad feelings, public condemnation, misundertandings, poor comprehension. There's two more people on my ignore list. Two more to feel uncomfortable too. Ugh. I thought this place was a refuge. I'm disappointed to find this there. Didn't like it. It sucks that people don't take the time to try and comprehend just what I'm saying. Too stupid to do that. Well, I'll try to ignore these two new girls, ----- and ----, formerly my friend. Now, take that!!!!!!!! | | | | | 10325 | | my roommate acts offended when the bathroom smells bad. come on, everyone poops! i really want to hit her. | | | | | 10324 | | It's just unwelcome. My mother knocked lose some connections on some sensitive electronics that I spend a long time getting right. You would not believe. Now it's off. I had this set up as entertainment that was soothing and needed now it doesn't work. I didn't need one more thing to go wrong. I can't deal with it. It makes me mad. She isn't even trying to be careful. I just don't want to deal with it. I didn't need this. | | | | | 10323 | | I think about dying because I can't find a way to live. There has been no one to help me confront certain things which are too much for one person. Professionals have been useless and a waste of time. Waste of energy, a sidetrack. I wish I could have been in a good place where I was treasured and loved. How different my life would have been. How sad. I can't hoe this row anymore. It is an end. And part of me wants to live. Part of me if I could be taken care of and comfortable, would want to live. That seems unlikely and I have been hanging on for three years, hoping for a reprieve. None forthcoming. I feel bitter and shocked by life. I remember when I was in a very bad public high school, which was not suitable for me, I was crying and talking to the principal and saying that I could learn if I was in a good place. I remember she looked inappropriately amused, like Shadenfreud. There were racial and social issues involved. That wasn't the last time I encountered something like that. It's been like that for me, and having incompetent yet well respected parents has been part of that. Badness. Bad. Bad. I was a delicate, sensitive, talented person who never felt properly protected and nurtured. Sure, I discarded some invitations I should not have, but why were such offers so rare? I did the best I could with what knowledge I had. Did my life depend on recognizing three rare, short lived offers to share it? I suppose so. That's not a lot for a life to rest on. They were not so clearly marked and there were caveats. Only in retrospect . . . do I know that these were the ones. Why not more? Why do much dross to run through? What kind of a fucked up life is that? It sucks bigtime.
I've suffered since at least the age of 18. I am 42 now. It hurts to be alive. I feel deprived of everything, even basics needed to function. Deprived, achy, painful, deprived, hornswoggled, stolen from. It is bad and too much for me to deal with. I hate it. | | | | | 10322 | | Hmmmm. I'm afraid that I'm drifting. I feel that my life is hopeless. I've withdrawn from many things. Things that I thought were hurting me. I still experience other things that I feel hurt me and steal from me that I seem trapped by. I am afraid of not knowing how I will live. I push that away to rest as best as I can in a bad situation. For some reason the keyboard keeps putting up the wrong letters here. I am at one with my TV and computer and food delivery service. They are as close as I feel I can get to love and nurturing. I have withdrawn. That's how it is. I had some unpleasant experiences calling help lines about some issues today. Two of them sloughed me off. That was icky.
It took me a long time to find this site, and another one that is similar. I feel that I am making a cocoon around me of things I need but I feel afraid that it is too little too late. I look at my clothes which are wonderful and that makes me want to live, to wear my fantastic wardrobe, but at the same time I experience not having a safe pleasant place to live, MAJOR thing. I feel that the starts and resources I have compiled might make a platform for another woman to get started. I feel that it takes that much, all a particular woman could assemble at great effort is but a start, a platform. It took everything I had and still wasn't enough, so give it to another woman to take off from, but she'd had to be a my dress size and like my clothing colors. It's so sad. I try to provide for myself. There are tupperware bins of art supplies, hats, accessories, household tools. Many are picked up at garage sales and thrift shops. There are files of my writings in a drawer. Some have great potential. Under a desk is a great manuscript. There is a lot of great kitchen stuff. The kind poor people save up for and covet. Like to have a start. To have a decent environment, to clear a path through all the false resources and find the true ones. Like as if my start could be given to another or her start could be given to me, because one poor woman isn't enough to get through this world it seems. | | | | | 10320 | | I'll admit I'm into shoujo-ai anime. I'm into it because I find it cute and innocent, as lame as that might sound. So I'm really tired of putting up a picture of something like Utena and Anthy holding each other in some cute, romantic way and the very next post is "dued u shud drah tem getin it onn!"
YOU PEOPLE ARE ALL LOUSY FREAKIN PERVERTS! | | | | | 10319 | | I was just at that lame ass hot or not site. I was scrolling through pictures by hitting the "1" (aka lowest rating) button over and over. I saw a couple that I was the first voter. I apologize. Except for that skinny white kid in the baggy hockey jersey and gold chain. He earned that 1. | | | | | 10318 | | i never got to have sex with my ex girlfriend i dont know why either, but all i want to do is to bang the hell outta her, i dont want to go back out with her but i wanna fuck her sooooo badly | | | | | 10317 | | i hate both of my friends girlfriends, they are both bitches, they are going to fuck up both of my friends lives and so far have ruined any attept of having any fun at all. | | |
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| | \di·vulge\, v. i. 1. To make known (something private or secret) 2. Archaic. To proclaim publicly
the idea is for anyone to anonymously confess to anything. it actually feels kind of good to know that someone will read it.
this is completely confidential. no information about you or your computer is stored. in fact, we only collect the text you type, the date, and a random number.
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