Getting HIGH before I get LOW.

With all of my heart I want to heal.
With all of my heart I want to make things better.
But all I can do is hurt. My biggest fear is realized.
I seek to heal but all I can do is harm.
In my passionate filled need to heal I have gone
ass-backwards and made conflicts ;
not solved them. I am aware of how I
am repeating the same point over and over
in different terms. I am just mulling
about the irony of it all.

I'm adding emphasis to my plight.

For all the good I've done I've unknowingly
done worse. I can't help anyone ; I can't
even help myself. I'm useless ; hopeless.

It's no wonder Karma has
thwarted me again and again.

I deserve it...

Every good thing in my life ends.

Whether its by my hands or other
means everything I touch breaks.
Who can heal me is the real question?

Make my heart brand new...every beat will be for you...
Dear Lord... nothing makes sense anymore.

Where am I?

What is my purpose?

My reason for being chosen to walk this earth?

I eagerly seek answers.

I find none.

Who holds the key to my existance?
Who is my gatekeeper?

I beseech you!
Tell me your name!

Come to me and repair me, complete me.
By holding my love... you hold me.
You clasp your fingers around my beating heart gently...
And you trust me to do the same.

...To hold your heart just as softly.
That trust, that LOYALTY.

That is what true love is.

And I had that amazing connection once.
Then I fucked it up. I can only destroy... why?
My heart withered that day.

I don't know WHO I was.

Lines blurred and life got scary.

I made the mistake.

I pushed you away so suddenly.
You didn't know what was going on... you didn't know why.
The coccaine made me someone I wasn't.

I saw how it changed me every day.
Little by little making me a monster.
One night I had a dream... a nightmare, really.
A terrible nightmare.

I saw an angry person there.
An ugly, vicious beast.
And that beast was me.

I was so scared.
If you saw that cruel monster.

What would that monster say or do?
I couldn't bare the thought of dragging
you down with me. Of the possibility that
I might hurt you. I was in so deep...

I know you would have grabbed my hand
and never let go. I know you loved me and
would of helped me through it. There's so
much I want to say... but I just...

I hope you don't read this.
Yet at the same time...

It's not right of me.
I have no right to say anything.
I did it. Not you. I blew it.

And I'm so very sorry.

Disregard this if you please.
I'm just... ranting like a fool.

But I'm saying what I really mean.

You're my only hope.

All my sorrows are being revealed.
I am stripping my soul and pulling out my
desires, my fears, my deepest dreams and nightmares.

What is your greatest fear?
Your most cherished dream?
I want to know.

Show me the world through
your eyes, let me glimpse into your being.

Guide me as I have just guided you through my thoughts.
I want to see, understand. Even if I don't always
have the power to heal, to help, I will still try.
I will clasp my hands in prayer and pray
I can mend the soul of who I try to help.
I just want to heal... that is my deepest wish.

What is yours?

Show me.

Here I sit at work bored out of my skull for I have
finished my work early. Why am I here of all places?

Simple.

Every other website is blocked and I noticed I haven't
written in this thing for a very long time. xD Ugh, its
times like these that I really wish I worked earlier hours.

Like 12pm-8pm would be nice. There's a party going on and I
have to wait until I get out at 10:30 to attend. TT_____TT
By the time I get there at 11pm all the booze will be gone.

My friends have been partying since 7:30pm! Oh well.
At least I don't have to work until 2pm and Ed (the host)
has tomorrow off. But Chris is taking me home and he has
to get up at 7am. So I'll have to leave early... Damn, I
just realized that this whole journal entry has been about
time basically. Look at all the time references.

Blah blah PM.
Blah blah AM.

Man, I kinda miss when time had no meaning to me.
But that was the old useless me who had no job,
no goals and no ambition. To use time is to be busy.

And to be busy is to live, I suppose. I just wish I
could live happily. I'm not depressed or even sad...
just... unsatisfied with my life. Frustrated.

I'm stuck inside this rut that I fell into by
mistake. Someone rescue me and show me something
new! I want to have adventures like I did in High
school. Things were so exciting and new then...

Work Monday through Friday and partying on the
weekends are getting old. Drink, dance, sing.
Party, sway, laugh, grin, smile, hug, kiss.

Work, scream, cry, punch, smoke, sigh.

Ahhhh... being grown up is not as fun as I imagined.

Ce'st la vie.

Wow, its amazing how
much I don't care.

Yeah, I'm talking about you.
I was thinking and you know what?
You made me feel good too.

I just didn't throw you away.

I am better then you.

This is the last entry where
you will see anything about you.

I don't know why but...
I just wanted to let you
know I'll be just fine.

I'm just that considerate, I guess.

You love to see me cry, I know you do. I see a strange satisfaction glinting in your eyes when you see the tears. You pick and pick at old wounds. You rip them open and pour salt on them.

"You're father is looking down from heaven... ASHAMED OF YOU!"

All I did was come home from work tired. I lied on the couch because the Plumber was still there fixing the bathroom shower and sink. As I drifted off to sleep my mom yelled at me to wake up... so she could introduce me to the fucking PLUMBER. Are you fucking serious?! Is he done with his work? Great! It's 11:00 at night I'd like to shower if you don't mind.

These were all thoughts, mind you. I'm not that rude. When the guy left I turned to my mom and raised my brows quickly in jest; "He's pretty cute, eh? You gonna date him or somethin', what's with the introduction?"

Wild, angry eyes bore into me.

"YOU KNOW WHAT, AMANDA?! FUCK YOU!!!!!!"

At that point and time I was startled and confused by the hostility. I told her it was a joke but she is ranting about how disrespectful I am. Then she goes deeper, JUST FOR THE HELL OF IT.

Of course I reacted! Hell yes, I responded! And I admit I was an asshole readily! But only, ONLY after the insults didn't stop. I'm lazy, rude, a failure, shameful, hopeless, pathetic and a moron. And that's only what she called me in the past half hour. She only stopped because she was tired.

I can't wait until tomorrow.

Amy says I shouldn't go to bed angry. I'm not angry, I'm hurt beyond words. My mother is the one who is angry. And I flat out FUCKING refuse to put my tail between my legs and beg forgiveness for a fight I didn't instigate or start. I'm tired of apologizing for MY mothers' outbursts.

She specifically told me not to. I quote ; "Don't you DARE come in the room and apologize." For what, bitch? It's you who should be ashamed.

Let the guilt eat at you for once. I'm sick of this shit.

Tell me, God... Out of all the souls you could have picked to roam Earth why did you pick me? Knowing how big of a failure & fuck up I would be, why did you allow me to live? What is my purpose? All I do is disappoint and anger people, especially what little family I have left. Why should I believe in you after all you've done to me? I'm just one big fucking cosmic joke that you and all the deities laugh over. I'm just here for your amusement and I'm tired of it. You've proven me right.

YOU DON'T EXIST.

And if you do... FUCK YOU!

I am so tired of this pain. It's quite literally killing me.

P.S -- I have a month to find a place to live.

Why must it be so difficult?

>O

I fail today.

I'm gonna go see if I qualify for the Lap Band surgery on Tuesday because I obviously need some aid in doing this. What's the point of going to the gym if I'm gonna binge on weekends? I'm so fuckin' frustrated.

I broke the mirror today...

;_;

My confidence and ego are making guest appearances lately.

TT______TT <33333

Gymin' again and I feel great!
3 miles is a breeze for me now.

Not running yet but even fast
walking is an improvement!

Huuuuuu~~~!!!

Well, mom came home last Friday all upset. It seems she is having some boyfriend trouble and I find myself wanting to cause this guy bodily harm. It was HE who fucked her over and out of respect to my mother I won't state how or why. It's personal. So, she moved back in with my sister and I... and while she is most welcome here, I find myself missing that glorious independence. I know I'm being selfish and I'm sorry for it. Things just keep hitting me and I don't even have a chance to really get up.

My Lord, I could really use a hand right about now.

Arghhhhhhhh!!!!

My sister fuckin' washed a picture
Ciara drew for me seven years ago...

It was all I had left of happy times
with her. It was a picture of Michiru.

I found it in the basement a few weeks
ago and I put it in my pillow case.

Nooooooooooooo.

;___;

I know she didn't mean to do it and
I shouldn't have put it in such a
place... but...

I'm just a pathetic sentimental.

Why?

I am pained by the knowledge that I am seemingly more perceptive than everyone else. My ability to put two & two together quickly wracks at my skull.

Tell me I'm being paranoid.
Don't make me do this again.

My mother fucking laptop died. Shit the bed. My life was on that thing and I have no hope of recovering it. Fuck...

I went to ConnectiCon today! I had a fuckin' blast! Check myspace soon for the pictures I took of cosplayers! >w< It was the most fun I've had in a long while. The only thing I wish was that MORE PEOPLE CAME! TT____TT

I went with one friend and he was kinda boring. Cons aren't his thing. And oh god. He's being an asshole to my sister. Yeah, my bestfriend is my sister's boyfriend. WELCOME BACK TO HIGH SCHOOL. D: But seriously, fuck this guy if he's hurting my sister. My sis doesn't deserve this.

My mom surprised me & picked me up from work today. I felt really happy to see her. It was like I was a child and she is smiling as I ran from the building as the school bell rang. Just like old times.

Really, I am such a simple person.

It took a real fun outing with friends to realize just how secluded a person I am. Don't get me wrong... I love being around people but when push comes to shove I can't do those kind of things everyday. I need time to recharge.

Everything feels alright now.

I've embraced the fact that I may be single for a while and you know what? I'm okay with that. I may be lonely once in a while, but it's time to stretch my legs and be free.

Let's be free.

Why the hell is is okay for a parent to talk down to their child, but when the child asks them to "please" change their tone and speak to them like a fucking human being the parent wigs out, calls their child a "fucking moron" and hangs up the phone? And, please, please tell me... why the sister calls her sister a "dumbass douche" for defending herself?

Please tell me why my mother brings up past wounds, shreds them open, and slaps salt on them.

I hate going to bed angry at someone but my mother hung up on ME. All I wanted was for her to explain things to me in a calm & reasonable fashion and she acts like I told her to fuck off, like I insulted her to an unforgivable extent. All I said was "please, I don't understand."

Suddenly, I'm mocking her and I'm sarcastic.

Who...are you? Ever since she left I don't know who my mother is anymore.

I go wild because it doesn't make sense for me to cry out in my own defense.

How strange. Lately I feel light & easy. I can suddenly find reasons to smile. It all happened after I cried so hard my eyes bruised. It felt like months of emotions spilled out and now I am contently empty of negativity. I pray this won't go away.

P.S-- I am in love with Phoenix Wright games!
Or more, specifically Franziska Von Karma! <3

I was writing some lyrics, messing with my guitar, and these
words were belted out at random as I contemplated my life.

' You can stab me in the back as a thank you
and I wouldn't even mind. Did I do what I do
best and help you? Then I am satisfied. '

This is going to be a good song. I've titled it 'Continuation'.

I'm tired of being let down.
I'm tired of being blow off.
I'm tired of being sensitive.

I'm tired of feeling like I've lost a father and a mother.

I'm tired of being here.

I want to run.

And I don't care if I have $1000.00
or a penny to my name while I do it.

I just don't care.

Yeah. I haven't updated this thing since Dad died.. but not much has been going on. Got my job at the school as a custodian making $500 a week. Not to hard, except for when the kids think its hilarious to literally piss and shit all over the bathrooms, not that I'm sexist but its just the boys who do this. And well this one teacher who gets on my nerves bitchin' and moanin' that I don't clean her room to exceptional standards. The school was built in January, its new, I bust my ass to keep it sparkly so STFU. :D My boss says the room is golden and to just ignore "the bitter bitch" as he calls her. Also just got over Bronchitis/Post Nasal Drip/Stomach bug. And yes.. I was battling those fuckers at the SAME TIME. Takin' 5 frickin' antibiotics, a steroid, inhaler and a vitamin. And still I had to work. I wanted to crawl under a desk and die. But its over and God has seen me through it.

It's hard being the provider in my family now. I am depended on so much its frightening sometimes. Knowing that if I lost my job we'd be homeless is unnerving. Giving your mother 75% of your check every week is hard. I feel like Atlas. Do this. Do that. Gotta do this. Gotta do that. Smile. Work. Sleep. Hug. Comfort. Cry. I get so dizzy with emotions I hardly feel anything at all. It's to confusing to feel. All I want is peace in my heart and mind. I feel so very alone...

Tired...

I'm always so tired...

But I'm grateful for everything I do have. God bless.

After long consideration I decided to post this. I wrote this only hours after my father, Robert Carl Johnson, passed away. It is written very descriptively so if you have a weak constitution or, rather, stomach etc etc I suggest you pass up on this.

My Dad was not only an excellent parent but my best friend in the world... Rest in peace Poppa Bear. I love you and miss you terribly. Please look after mom and Amy. We love you.

.November 16th, 2006.

That's what today is. If this were any other time, of any of day, of any other year this date would have no significance whatsoever. But today, unfortunately, has a meaning far greater than any other day I have lived so far in my life. Today is the day my father died. It seems so unreal. I struggle to sort out the emotions running through my mind, my soul, my heart.. but its so cluttered I cannot even begin to sort them out. I feel cheated. I feel numb. I feel that which my Father is. Dead. Well... no. That is not completely accurate. I feel everything. Yet nothing.

Unreal. That is what this day is. Fake. Surreal. A bad dream. A nightmare. Horribly frightening. It's to soon to conclude what killed him yet we have theories. The paramedics have theories. The coroner has theories. The doctors have theories. I want answers. But I fear none of them will be answered. I only know this ; Today my Father was robbed of me and my family. Fifty six. That was his age. To young. Not right. But fated. Called by God. It is not my place to understand.

I look to the sky and want to scream at the top of my lungs. I want to know WHY. But I won't know why. Not until the day death takes me and I am before the gates with God himself. It's funny... religion is the medallion of hope now. Those whom never believed as strongly certainly do now. I, myself, have had my doubts about the big guy up there. I don't remember exactly when but a long while ago my faith was renewed. I bowed to God and only God casting aside my other beliefs and trusting only in him. I have ideals still. Certain things I cannot bring myself to believe. Adam & Eve. The ark. It does not lessen my faith though.

God, this is a moment of bliss where this does not seem real or valid. Like some cruel joke. I would not be offended at this point if it was. Please.. please.. dad.. call and shout "SYKE!" and walk through my Aunt Cindy's door with that big goofy grin on your face. Please? Your heart, father.. it was weak they say. A stroke followed by a massive heart attack. Why did I have to find you? Perhaps I was the most equipped to find you. Perhaps. But that doesn't mean I had to be the obvious candidate. Father.. your lumbering nude form in the fetal position is forever imprinted on the slate of my skull. My consciousness.

An ugly bump at your brow and a bleeding gash trickling with thick blood. A small pool laid by your head. Your hands curled in front of you, knees bent. Fetal position. Fatal last scene in the play that was your life. You left this world as you came into it. Naked like a newborn babe. It wasn't painful they say. Your last breath caught in your throat and you fell banging your head and were gone before the thud of your body hitting the floor could sound. In that instant did you know?

I pray not. Dear God.. father. Your blue and purple stained face, vomit, like peanut butter clogging your nostrils, your tongue hanging limply from your mouth. My heart raced and panic clutched it with its icy grip. A grim realization dawned on me. I knew the moment I broke the door open and saw. Hope drained from my soul. I didn't need to look twice. You were gone. Dead. Shaking but nimble fingers dialed the three digits a calm voice receiving me. Hasty explanations. No! Miss Operator! You don't understand! I'm not a professional but he's gone. I can't turn him over.

He's to heavy. His face! His face! Brutally disfigured. It's not him. It's a mirage. It's not him. I'm still in bed. This is all a nightmare. Wake up! WAKE THE HELL UP!! Please.. oh God, please..

Sirens. Many of them. I charge down the stairs and fling the door open. Over here! Hurry! He's dead but maybe you can revive him? Hands clasped in a prayer I lead them to him and sit on my bed, head bent. Voices. Many of them. A defibrillator. Clear! X amount of volts. Nothing. To late. To late. Nothing. A hand to my shoulder. A few soft words. Without knowing how I got there I'm downstairs. Dread settles in the pit of my abysmal stomach. But the worst has not yet occurred. How do I tell mom? Amy?

They're faces emerge. One look at mine and the message is conveyed. Mom's eyes go wide in fear as she falls to her knees sobbing. Amy, grim faced, shows only vacancy on her face but her eyes speak volumes. We go to mom and hold her. His body is carried out, white sheet. I avert my eyes. I have already seen him. The image won't leave. This is not happening! We flee to my aunt's house.

The condo holds to much memory. Fear chokes up in our throats when we see the bathroom. When I see the bathroom. The pictures he's in, the couch he sat on, the clothes he wore, the paths he walked when alive suffocates us. No heartbeat. No father. No husband. They're talking about funeral arrangements. Whose funeral? My father's? No. This cannot be right. The spasm of ignorance falters and the truth
wavers before my tear-filled blue eyes. I swallow down a sob. It's not that I don't want to cry.

I want to cry horribly but something inside won't allow it. Am I dry already? Drought in my hues? I need to recharge then? Probably. Do I really want to do that? Tears are so tiring. It's natural to grieve, I realize, but I'm so tired. Already.. and the day has not yet come to a close. Dear God..

It's only day one, eleven hours of consciousness and I am so exhausted. The days will only get harder. I'm not ready for this. No one is ready. I will never be ready.. but the stoplight of life is green. GO!

End Thought Cycle :
9:04PM