lee_the_messed_up_punk

my #ucked up life
2004-02-11 09:57:35 (UTC)

what isn't addicting

February 11th, 2004
soundtrack: Oasis, wonderwall.

So I'm tired as fuck. Actually I guess using the
word 'fuck' is wrong but it feels good to write it.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

The last time I wrote in here I was living with my
father, paranoid, anxious and fatigued. I'm still all of
the above minus the father part, but considering the world
surrounding me is made of shit, I still have a few things
keeping me sain.

My father eventually kicked me out after he quit
smoking for a week(thank god), I packed up as much shit as
I could and moved in with Ang. When I moved here with her
and her sister I noticed a big change in my attitude...
example, I could breath without someone analyzing my every
action. Being my fathers pet project drove me to down a
whole bottle of T3's with a 40 of something that was
supposedly aged that tasted like zest and oil.

If I stayed there for any longer I would have done
worse. There was even one night after he said I didn't
know how to take a shit 'like a normal person' that I felt
like I had to cut myself to be happy, luckily I didn't.

Anyway, it's over and this new life is similar to hell
but not as bad as actually being there. Ang is great.
It's been about three months, three days, an hour and 23
seconds, wait, 28, no 40...that we've been together and we
haven't fought once. Not that I'd expect a fight, I guess
I'd be better off saying that she puts up with me and seems
to understand certain things that I wouldn't expect others
to.

Her sister lived with us for a while until she
imported a dude Ted, his real name isn't Ted but he looks a
lot like Ted Danson, from Britain. After that, she changed
into a female version of my father and we then had a
British father until they finally moved down the street.

Me and Ang took over the apartment after I got my
money from unemployment insurance, bought some beaded
drapes, spider man seats that fold into couches, a cherry
red wooden coat rack with a matching table that Jam broke
twice thinking it was a stool, and a yellow submarine
poster.

I love being around her, she cares about me a lot and
I think without her and my mother I'd be in the factory for
quite some time. I still think about going there but those
two always keep me here.

We both got jobs at, believe it or not, gas stations,
run by the same person, Freddy without the claws. Even
though we've already been through a lot together we still
find ways to laugh and create priceless moments.

A few weeks ago in this order...

Ang's cat was stolen
Our neighbor threatened to kill me
Ang's aunt was murdered
My mother became slightly sick
Ang's uncle died
I ended up in the hospital after I couldn't breath or
swallow without screaming
Ang's power supply died on her computer
My mother Broke her arm
We lost 3 grams of weed on separated occasions
I locked guys outside of the store that wanted to either
rob or kill me
A kid came in the store bleeding and started to attack
customers
and so on...

I've been managing without meds but even today I had
at least two panic attacks.

Every day seems to be a struggle, getting food,
smokes, toilet paper, beer, drugs but at least I'm not
living in a hole looking up at the world.

Fuck, I forgot to get toilet paper today...

Our apartment is huge but...

The floor creaks
Were surrounded by nut cases
Our landlord is a fucking asshole
The fire alarm goes off at night
The fridge freezes everything
The toilet leaks and plugs constantly
The windows are rotten and frozen shut
and so on...

I really wish I would have written in here while all
of this stuff was going on but I was either without access
to the net or just plain lazy. It almost felt like a room
that was too messy to clean, when you look around and say
to yourself,

'where can I even start...'.

Right now, Ang is beside me drawing, I'm 'venting',
Jam's working and Ian's watching her draw. Were all a
little high off random pills, liquid and life, listening to
Oasis and talking about whatever pops into our end of day
heads.

I've missed way too much but covered as much as I feel
like tonight. Besides...

Tomorrow's a new day...and I have Ang, 6 T3's, weed and
already swollowed 2 muscle relaxants, so fuck me.

lee

We're creating a freelance magazine, I'm doing some shows
soon, did a few songs, my dad is smoking again(supposedly
because of me), my mothers arm is still broken, my birtday
just passed(now 24) and I love smoking(supposedly because
it's addicting...

but what isn't?)

...

I talked to Tash a few weeks ago, he never came in November
like he normally does. He didn't say much, just that four
things will go missing and that one will be found under the
bed. It was after they found her that I knew I heard him
wrong. Two or so days ago I saw myself sleeping while Ang
was at work but it wasn't as bad as it's been in the past.

Infact, I was happy it happened.

One for Ang, five for me.
Live to Learn, fight to be do and exist.

Ya, you should take that.





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