Eh… Again, this will just be of highlights I recall. Tuesday night my dad came to the back room where my mom and I are when watching TV. A baby bird fell out of its nest. It was around eight then, so I left the room to see. It looked to be a baby dove. It wasn’t in shock and it looked unharmed. At the time I had been hopeful. The parents would hopefully come back and save it.
The next day when I went to get the mail, I saw it again. Well, I thought I saw it. I pointed it out to the mailman and he noted there seemed to be another one. The one I saw apparently was its sibling. The one from the night before was still in the area I last saw it. I wasn’t so hopeful after that.
I checked again that afternoon. They were gone from their spots, so I was hopeful once more. That is, until I was found them on the other side of the yard. They were still alive and apparently able to move easily. Still… they were stranded.
I really wanted to save them. I wanted to take them in and place them at least in the atrium where they would be safe. Alas, I have no idea how to take care of birds. I had no idea how old they were and ultimately knew I lacked the stamina or stress control to do the job. Sadly, I never checked back on them again.
Neko hasn’t been on much. She is a busy girl. It seems she’ll be taking some college classes again. She only has two semesters left, but she reacts to college a bit like me. She is stronger though. I only lasted three classes. She will start again around the 11th.
Shred also will be starting his summer classes soon. He starts tomorrow. Pretty much he starts the same day my mom has to go back for jury duty. Oi.
I still seem to be in my tired spell. It sort of worries me a bit, really. I go to bed from around twelve to two and sleep until six. I take my meds and snooze until seven. Usually I get up, eat and stay up. Lately… I just wind up falling asleep again. As of late I take two naps during the day time. I just collapse. I still eat regularly; I have still been getting in my two-mile walks despite this… what is the bloody problem? Oi.
Well, I’m fortunate in any case. I can sleep when I need it. My brother on the other hand has issues popping up. The other night Mom mentioned a concern he had about his body to her. The concern deals with a male cancer. Well, today he went in to get it checked out now that he is apparently scared enough to do something. Mom wanted him to go to a specialist, but he went to the ER. Oi.
So, now we are worried about him. Upon hearing what his concerns are, I couldn’t help but think it is effects from all the drug use he did. For all I know he still uses drugs, however. Sadly, my mom thought the same thing… taking in toxins all the time.
Well… that is all the news that comes to mind. Well, I have reached 164 pages on that concept story, though. Anyway, this month I have appointments in the 12th and the 29th. On the 12th I’ll see Mrs. Wynne. The other is a doctor appointment. It is five-forty and dinner time is approaching.

Well, I’m not up for back tracking much, so this will be consisted more of highlights. I talked to Shred for a while before the weekend hit. He and I determined my computer is suffering from low memory. I have one gigabyte of RAM… apparently it isn’t enough anymore.
Shred later talked about trying to come down and see me. He would be staying somewhere an hour’s drive away for the weekend. Well, that was troublesome since my weekends are busier than my weeks. I gave him my number and figured we’d get back on that.
It wouldn’t have worked out. I did clean my room up a bit in case such did occur, but we never made contact during the weekend. Saturday wouldn’t have been too great of a day since it rained half the day and I was in a sluggish mood after grocery shopping. If he had come by my free time would have been from two to five maybe and during that I struggled to stay awake.
Later my cat gave me a scare. My mom found a roach and I came to the rescue with the bug spray. I drenched it down good. A while later I reenter and I find my cat fished it out from somewhere and had it in his mouth. He was shaking his head like it was a piece of meat needing to be tenderized. I of course cried out and he dropped it. I was disturbed when he was licking the taste out of his mouth and off his paws.
I informed my mom and she told me to wash his mouth out and clean off his fur. I did so. After that I locked him in my room with me and I kept an eye on him. To my luck nothing terrible came out of it, but before that had been determined I recall telling him not to die on me because I hadn’t had him for a whole year and he was supposed to live until he was twenty, damn it.
I was still tired Sunday. I didn’t even get in my walk. Still later in the morning I woke to find an email from one of my elusive twins. It made me happy. I hadn’t talked to this one for about three years. We emailed for a while, she rejoined the board we met at and we’ve been chatting through messenger the past two nights. It seemed they received the Christmas presents I sent them, despite they didn’t find them until around the end of January because the mail man left them stuffed in some bushes apparently. Oi.
Later on that night my dad’s dog got a stick lodged into his throat. Yeah, the idiot swallowed a stick. So, he choked on it for a while until he finally threw it up. It panicked my dad greatly.
Monday was better. I was feeling a bit more energized and did my usual routine. The story I started on the first reached to about eighty pages. I still have a long way to go with it and my ideas are blurry. Oh well. I can’t remember much else about the day sadly… my memory semi-sucks.
Around the time my parents came home I was heating up leftovers from Sunday night. I pulled out a roll and placed it on the counter to eat once my soup was heated. I left the room for a minute and came back to find the bloody thing gone! I then saw my mom’s dog nearby. He looked bloody happy and was wagging his tail. I knew he was the culprit. I of course yelled at him.
The dogs are becoming infamous. You see, earlier that day my dad’s dog had eaten the cat’s food off the kitchen counter sometime when I was on my walk. Later he had gotten to another bowl of cat food that was in a guest room. As for my mom’s dog, the day before she made muffins. He stole a freshly baked muffin off the table and devoured it!
Sigh… Dogs are troublesome. Even if a cat tries to snitch something, it is just a small piece. You can saw off the “infected” area and eat the great amount that is left. They aren’t sneaky about it either. Our dogs are sneaky. They act dumb, but they have their smart moments. They know it is wrong and they know if we catch them they are in trouble. They always wait until no one is around. Evil!
Sigh…
Well, the night progressed. I talked to Neko some and around eight my mom wanted to watch TV. she told me about a scare she had over the weekend. She makes her own peanut butter. While she was sampling some left over peanut butter that wouldn’t fit in the jar she wound up discovering a piece of glass in her mouth. It freaked her out.
After that, mom went to bed and I saw Neko again. She and I chatted until it was time for us to go to bed. I didn’t hit the bed until 1:30.
I got up at 6:58. Dad had given me my Nexium an hour before. I ate my breakfast and took my walk at eight. I did some chores. Mom came back. She had jury duty today but all the cases either were postponed or plea bargains were made, so she was done early. She has to return on the first of June though.
I was tired by ten, so I took a nap. Mom disappeared to go to work somewhere not long after that I suppose.
I woke again at twelve. I made my usual peanut butter sandwich and snacked on some grapes. My dad and brother came home at lunch time. At 1:30 we left. Dad was dropped off and my brother took me to the doctor’s appointment. It was just a follow up. I was there for an hour.
The usual stats were taken and the doctor asked me questions. I asked my questions. I’ll stay on my Nexium for another month. If I still need something, I’ll go to Zantac. If bad stuff is still occurring I’ll have to see a doctor and have tests done. Oi.
I asked about my cholesterol as well. I had relayed my diet, my disinterest in sweets and that I walked two miles every day for forty minutes. I’m doing fine, he said and we assume it might be my genetic make up. Since I know little to nothing about my birth parents, however… It can only be assumed. It relieved me though. It meant I wasn’t doing anything wrong; I just had it in my genes like my mom.
Well, I left, my brother took me home and I questioned him about something bothering me. Mom’s been losing money again. That of course is a bad sign. So, I asked him… was he stealing? He said no of course. He said he had no way of doing such a thing since he was never around. I pointed out we see him every Sunday night and such. The talk continued. He said he would have preferred that Mom confronted him about it. I told him she didn’t tell me, I just noticed she was missing money.
Well, in the end he still denied. I didn’t push. I never do. I just let him know my thoughts. I got out of the car; I thanked him for having to wait for an hour and the ride and then headed into the house.
Now I am here typing this. I need to finish up some more chores now. Blah.

Heh… Well, I joined MySpace a while ago. I only bothered with contacting three people. I got a response from one. She is doing well; I admitted I knew about all the things she relayed to me because I was aware of her page for quite some time now.
Tonight, another girl I contacted sent me a message. She asked me how I was, where I was and what is up. I told her in simplest forms. She told me where she lived and asked about us meeting someday. I told her my position on that. I also admitted a fault of mine – I’m boring as hell and would suck as a host.
She responded about talking on the phone and left me her number. That rather put me at loss. It was a semi-helpless, semi-sad sort of loss. I replied. I spoke more of my bad points and explained my leeriness of using the phone. After sending that message I came here to write it down.
Heh… Fuel’s “Bittersweet” just now ended. How suiting that is.
Anyway, all of this just reminds me of my awkwardness. Before her response, I had thought about my three friends from my childhood. I thought of how they grew up and what sort of people they are now. I thought to myself,
“They all seem to have grown up and chose similar paths. It seems I was the misfit out of them.”
It is true. All of them are normal. That in turn reminded me of my endless story. I never tried to make my character like me, but looking back… she really is. I could not help but see the scene I wrote.

“Still though, she felt isolated despite physically she was not. Everyone she knew… their lives seemed so strange to her. They were beautiful even though the people who lived such existences found their lives to be mundane and boring.
Her gaze softened. She envied them. She never did quite feel human before, but living with people… “Normal” was so depressing for her at times. Their problems, fears, aspirations, dreams, recollections, identities… She doubted any of her friends realized that. She also had trouble at labeling people friends. That was foreign to her as well…”

That feeling is present. It is somewhat sad, wistful, calm and almost numbing. It is the same feeling the song “Bittersweet” gives me. It is the feeling of looking outside from inside. The only thing that separates is a pane of glass.
Heh…
I wonder if I just create a self-fulfilling prophecy. I wonder if I just keep myself away from others because of self-imposed beliefs. Then there is the “experience”, however. There is the logic.
When looking at how our conversation was going, I thought, “I just wanted to know that you are alright.” I seem to be that way with all my past relationships. Looking at it, it seems I obviously care for those who have touched my life, but I feel I will never fit in there physically.
A Watcher.
I remember using that phrase back in late middle school. I might have been fourteen. That is the word I used to describe how I felt. I would look after and love from afar… because I just couldn’t up close. I couldn’t function in the world of those I cared for.
The bad points I admitted to her were all the things I am fine with by myself. Telling them to her, however… left me feeling helpless. I know she isn’t the girl I remember and I am most certainly not the friend she recalls.
I wrote somewhere in the message switching, “I hope I have not disappointed you.”
I really meant those words.
Heh. My eyes are watery.

Well, while the guy I met via the net recently is still pleasant to talk to he has gotten ahead of himself two times already. The previous conversation I wrote about, I left out the single thing that was a warning light. We spoke about cars and at one point he asked if I drive. I told him no and we talked about why. He eventually said he’d teach me if I’d like. I brushed that off, but automatically thought he was jumping the gun with that. We live states away, just met, that night was our first day to converse and he comes up with that?
Well, I saw him again tonight. We haven’t swapped emails as much since he got on late, but another light went off. He wanted to see if we could talk on the phone before he called it a night. This is the second night we’ve conversed and he asks that?!
To my luck, I don’t use phones anyway. Ah, auditory processing disorders… I explained to him about the whole problem phones give me. He responded that he was sorry about that. Sigh…
If this happens a third time, I guess I’ll just have to give up. I’ll likely talk to my mom about what occurred tonight at some point. I told her about him tonight. She seemed uncertain. I told her my views vaguely and she easily got what I meant. She knew I was pretty uncertain myself, I think.
While I’ve always liked the idea of having the protective brothers who’d make a potential person for me quiver in fear for hanging out with me and the father who will make threats and give “the talk”, it surprised me when my mother told me more or less that if anyone was interested in me in a way that was beyond decent, the person wouldn’t have time to worry about my brothers. She’d have the guy in prison.
That left me with all smiles. I hugged her and told her it made me feel so loved. Yeah, most people would likely dread having a protective family like that, but it actually comforts me. It reassures me, makes me feel protected and makes me know I am very much loved. I am happy.

Update:

After “holding council”, I decided to just block him. While he was nice and everything, he made a yellow light turn on the first night and then a red one on the second. I didn’t feel anything in regards to him and the red light was unnerving. I blocked him.

Well, while I was an asshole this morning, I was an asshole who was unseen. It seems I am still my usual self when it comes down to stress. My adrenaline picks up and I am either worried like made or simply pissed off. I was pissed this time around. Why? I was woken thirty minutes late. Why should that piss me off? It put my entire morning schedule off. When certain things don’t go as planned, I freak out.
So, I wake up, see it is six-thirty. I was supposed to be woken thirty minutes ago and given that ulcer medicine. Well, just as I make it out my door my dad arrives with pill in hand. I take it and more or less go back to my room since I must wait an hour before I can eat. So, seven-thirty would be when I’d eat. Thus, that would mean I’d have to wait until eight-thirty to start the treadmill. I’d more or less be done finally at nine-thirty. Then there would be chores and I’d have to wait longer until lunch and blah, blah, blah. Basically my whole schedule was off and when I was supposed to eat at least every six hours, this time around I would not have eaten for seven.
Well, looking back now, I was making a huge deal out of little, but that is me when running on adrenaline and panic. So, four minutes pass and I decide to recalculate. I would change my schedule around. I wrapped up my weak ankle, got on my shoes, readied my music player, grabbed a water bottle and headed for the treadmill.
I made a detour to ask my mom if it would be okay for me to do such on an empty stomach full of adrenaline. She was in the shower and I pretty much cursed her in my head. I was still in a piss poor mood and walked while trying to keep myself calm because the adrenaline was not helping my ulcer. Half the walk was spent thinking, mentally ranting and cursing. Yeah, that is my asshole side. I was angry at my dad, frantic about the schedule and then annoyed with myself for being a bastard.
The reason I am usually seen as the good kid is due to my lack of fuss, I think. At worst I am snappish and show my pissed off mood despite all my struggles to keep it under wraps. Despite that there is no cursing or violence. I just try to avoid and when approached I tend to be unpleasant. Well, what is going on beneath all that is cursing. In equivalence to it being expressed it would either be very lashing, vocal or things would be thrown all over the place. At worse, things would be destroyed.
Well, none of those things happened. As said, I walked, I silently vented, I mentally cursed my dad, and then I mentally cursed myself for cursing him, I reflected and whatever. Because of the mood I was in I was able to do 3.3 mph for 1/4 a mile though. I was telling myself not to do such due to the whole work yourself slowly thing, but I lost track of distance in my brooding. It troubled me naught.
I was still easily agitated when I was starting to cool down mentally. While it is a given I depend on my parents and really need their help when it comes to keeping a schedule, it is my fault as well. I could always try to use the alarm on my clock again. Sure, it doesn’t always work out – I mean, I sleep through fire truck and ambulance sirens – but it could always help. Even more, I should be grateful my parents both look after me. They care and try their best. Not all parents are like that. I am fortunate that they help me keep track of my meds and make sure I take them everyday because if they didn’t, I’d suffer from withdraw or end up overdosing more than I’d like.
Still, despite all my rationalizing and disapproving my disrespectful thoughts, when my dad entered the room I was annoyed. When he turned on the overhead light I was annoyed more. Sometimes when he stood across the room in the proximity of the corner of my eye it even annoyed me. As usual I cursed myself for being a bastard and that I should get a hold of myself or whatever.
When I finished I got off and headed for a shower. While in there I did a few more calculations. I got out and by seven-thirty I started to microwave my bowl of oatmeal. I unloaded the dishwasher and thought of how I still “discipline” myself. I noted I still tend to “raise” myself. In my extremely old journal writings when I was full of anger, I would say I was my own parent. I think I still am. While I’m not as ignorant as I was a decade ago to have the audacity to say neither of my parents were there for me, I do think my “self-raising” is indeed a “third parent”. I think it even has a sort of proof to it when I look at my older siblings. My parents have always lacked in discipline it seems. I think my “third parent” provided that.
While I am not perfect, I still strive to be good. I doubt it will ever come naturally to me. Still, I do have some control. With my form of self-discipline I manage to keep myself in line. It helps me create the least amount of damage as possible. I don’t do anything rash unless provoked and even then I try my best to keep it minimal. In all of this I think, try to calm down and give reprimand to things I thinking that are unfair, wrong or just mean.
I try to be good, but looking at myself earlier, it seems I’ll always have a “natural” bad streak whenever stressed. Despite the pills and my calmer life style, it seems such will not change it. All I can do is try to control it. While in the past I’d berate myself for being weak and allowing myself to have those moments, I think now, it is inevitable. The most I can do is keep it under control when it does happen.
Sigh… Well, sitting down and typing this, I have become a lot calmer and am near my usual disposition. I suppose I am relieved at that. That is all then. I simply thought it would be good to keep record of this.

This is just something that has bothered me and was stirred up by stupid arguments about Disney’s upcoming production “The Princess and the Frog”. Yeah, racial stuff. Now, a lot of things this year and previous years have annoyed me but the recent thing I stumbled upon just got me talking.
So, from what I know, the movie starts out “The Frog Princess”. The main character was a heroine named Maddy. She was to be a scullery maid from the 1920’s in America whose prince is named Harry. Well, people pitched a fit about this.
First, her name was an issue. Some people complained that “Maddy”, which was short for Madeleine, was a stereotypical, lower-class, “slave” name. I say screw that. People shorten up names! Madeleine is a perfectly fine name and Maddy is an appropriate nickname for it. Who the heck is the say what a “slave” name is anyway? Many different people with many different sorts of names have been slaves. Any name can be a slave’s name.
There is then the complaint about the role of her being a maid working for a white rich person. Um, how about Cinderella and Snow White then? Look back people. It is the 1920’s! This is placed in a historical time and setting! Read a freaking history book! That is long before African-American civil rights came to play. Disney is just keeping up with history. Remember, this is an African-American princess here.
Even if she was in Africa or the like, she probably would only have been royalty in a tribe that hasn’t been forced into “civilization”. If she was South African she would have been like such – a maid to others – even in the 1970’s because of racial segregation there. If Disney tried to do that, she’d no longer be an African-American but a South African and people would then complain that they are implying she is a savage or that a black girl can’t be a princess here. B! S!
So, Disney changes this. When they try to keep historically correct for the most part, unlike how they did with “Pocahontas”, people still b*tch. So, Disney’s b*st*rdizing history again isn’t their fault this time it seems. Think people! Think! If you learned American History at least up to eighth grade you should know this! Disney was not being racist, dumb-f*cks!
Now, recently the prince has made an appearance. I stumbled upon an article titled, “Disney’s ‘The Princess and the Frog’ Has Black Princess, White Prince”. Upon reading it I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the ignorance of some people. First off, if you ever knew what his first name was supposed to be, Harry, might make you think of a man from Great Britain – it did me. I was automatically expecting a white dude. Later the name was changed to Naveen. Now recently there is a picture of him making its way around the Internet. The prince is not “WHITE”. He looks Hispanic or Middle-Eastern if anything.
Anyway, color isn’t everything. People just make it into a mountain because they/we have a need to be on top. It is “this or that”. As long as people keep thinking such a way, gray will never come about. The prince if anything is that gray. You don’t see this sort of issue from Natives or Asians in America. Sure, some Natives disapproved Pocahontas being changed from a freaking ten year old to the assumable age of twenty. Even more disapproved that she suddenly was paired up with John Smith as a romantic coupling since that NEVER happened, but you never saw them pitch a fit over her not being with another Native! “Oh, so a Native American can’t be a prince?” “Oh, so Disney thinks love between a Native-American Indian girl and a Native-American boy isn’t possible!” You didn’t see that sort of sh*t being said.
While some will twist it around, I really find the coupling a beautiful thing. It isn’t saying that a black man can’t be a bloody prince! It isn’t saying that the love between two black people cannot occur. It is saying something like, “Hey, if we try to get a black prince in the picture, the setting would have to be a different time period like the future or just an alternate universe.” America doesn’t have royalty, idiots. We have presidents. If you want an African-American princess she’ll have to marry a foreign prince. While there were black African royalty during those times, Disney wouldn’t try to use a real person for this, would they?
Even more! So what if the villain is “black”? All the other Disney Princesses had “white” villains – yeah, I’m going with the “There is only the blacks and the whites” concept here, so the villains in Sleeping Beauty, The Little Mermaid, Aladdin and Mulan “MUST” be white! Besides, this is about a prince AND a princess. So, the villain could very well be Hispanic, Middle-Eastern, African or African-American (on rare occasions skin colors that are not human) if you go along with “tradition” when it comes to Disney Princess movies.
Also, look at the logic! So, what is more likely? A person who might have roots from Africa practicing Voodoo or a person whose origins were likely from England practicing Voodoo? Use some sense people. I’m sorry; if they used a white villain and kept up with the FROG theme I highly doubt a priest of a church that follows Jesus Christ will call upon the powers of God to turn some Middle Eastern prince into a frog. Maybe if you can convince Disney to introduce worshipers of Satan to little kids and convince the audience that some white dude called upon the powers of hell to turn some prince into a freaking frog, that’ll do!
I truly think that all of this is due to being able to see and thus make categories by colors. Get rid of our eyesight and we wouldn’t know who is really what color. Instead we’d make issues over voices, pronunciation, dialect, slang and all that crap! Notice how ridiculous that would be? It is the same here.
This is History people. Segregation and slavery existed here and exists elsewhere. You can’t change the past. All the changes just b*st*rdizes the concept and this time it isn’t Disney making the film suitable for little kids. It is people throwing hissy fits. Yes, Hissy fits.
All of this separation still exists today. Those who suffer from racism will just as easily do the same when the tables are turned. Humans are hypocrites. Many African-Americans can go on all they like, but they are taking advantage now. Not all do, but many have been brought up to raise a red flag at anything. Seriously. An Asian kid can be picked on easily with racial insults. On the Internet people easily write the word “J@p” and no one gets onto them. Now, if you use “N!gger”, heaven forbid! Well, you know what? “J@p” is just as bad. Ignorant *ssh*l*s!
Separation is still apparent. Some African-Americans purposely separate themselves. At schools, the cafeterias will still be divided into those who are “black” and those who are whatever color. When gangs are formed it is usually of those that are of only one color, white gangs, black gangs, Hispanic gangs and whatever. You know why there is still separation? Some of us don’t think and don’t get over it. Yeah, some people may have had family members like grandparents or older who were enslaved. Yes, Civil Rights for African-Americans have only been around so long, so there are parents who remember those times and the struggles. However, if you don’t tolerate the past and accept the change, things will never be truly grasped.
This isn’t about racism. It is about what has happened. Such things shouldn’t be glossed over. That only leads to ignorance. It is the past and yes it was a terrible thing, but it only lives on to this day because some people won’t get over themselves. Do you see Asians making a fuss over Mulan? Do you see a ton of issues over segregation, “disrespect” and whatnot from other races? No. Other people like Asians, Hispanics even the Irish were shipped to America and were enslaved, treated lowly and all that. Remember concentration camps, people?
As for other things like people making political jokes about Obama, that is bull too. I saw the thing about the “Watermelon Whitehouse” and the monkey junk. I had to be explained to why the watermelon gag was so offensive and I could understand the monkey thing due to caricature. You know what I saw? The same bloody stuff I’ve always have seen about presidents in America. I say it isn’t a bad thing either. It shows that those who made such cartoons or gags treat him like any other previous white president before him. Some people out there just won’t think logically. F*ck*rs.

I talked to my mom this morning about my dad and his “depression” and his selfishness. The night before we spoke of such and led me to ponder over something, but I never got to bring it up. As noted in my previous entry, I thought of the time back after my suicide attempt. Interestingly that also brought in thoughts of my attempt to tell my mom my reasons back then. Well, it came up all over again.
I wanted to know where my selfishness laid back then. I explained to her the facets of my thoughts of others and then my view of my own life back then. I recollected my views on death and how people reacted to it. I remembered how I saw my life at the time and how I saw my future.
In simple terms I didn’t want to burden my parents, I didn’t think I’d get better, they dealt with my screwed up older siblings already and I figured one less “problem” would benefit them.
As for death, I didn’t fear it. I didn’t fear the unknown. What happens will happen. When I looked at my life, I was like a wound up music box. When I saw my future, I saw little difference. Logically the equation was that my life equaled the same as if I were dead.
I looked at my parents and thought of how death and mourning worked. People mourn deeply the first months, maybe years at worst. Life continues on and thus they continue to live and “move o”. I felt certain the same would occur for my parents.
I wanted to know where my selfishness was in that, since I lacked the ability to rationally pin point it. Hearing the entire aspect of it, my mom responded it was selfish, but unknowingly. Opposite to my father, I took the scenario like a scientist, with logic. My father mainly is emotional. Because of this, I lacked the true insight of how death affects other. I had heard that a parent’s worst nightmare is living beyond their children. I never knew the extent of the impact for parents’ who mourned was so intense. Thus, it was never computed and without the complete data the equation was flawed.
Thus, the factor in hand was also my lacking experience. I was around fifteen that year and unlike some unfortunate people, I never truly dealt with a situation to give me insight to how death can truly affect others, especially the parent and child aspect.
Therefore, in the end, I sincerely thought I wasn’t being selfish but it was due to inexperience and my lacking in true emotional insight.
Thus I asked my mom if I was still a good person in the long run. It seems I was and I found that relieved me. Noticing that, a new thought was inspired. I realized I did have a goal in life. I noted such to my mom.
I explained how I always viewed goals and aspirations. In the end it was the same way I had viewed what the feeling of happiness was. I saw it in its simple, exaggerated form. With happiness I thought one had to be energetic, excited, laughing and such. In turn, with goals, dreams and aspirations I thought it was something that was similar to a burning passion, energy and the like.
It was today I realized my view was limited on what a certain emotion was yet again. I did have a goal in life. I had this goal perhaps almost all my life. My goal is to be a good person.
I realized that is what it was. In the past I mistook my self-interest as self-centered and would fret over being selfish and self-involved. In the end it was my way of gathering data to make sure I could understand an emotion, the situation and how to avoid doing anything that would be bad unintentionally due to lack of understanding.
I always have done such. I’d ask my friend, Kyle, about negative situations that occurred to grasp what I did wrong. When my mother and I became close, I’d ask her the same sort of things. All this time… all of those things I did… were actually driven by my wish to be a good person and not because I couldn’t stop thinking about myself in a selfish sort of way. I was amazed.
In the end, it was concluded overall all my actions are of good intentions, but I will likely always require a second view, my mom, to enlighten me on the emotional aspects. Simply put, I was relieved.
I noted to her that I felt like an AI. It was like those science fiction stories where an artificial intelligent machine somehow develops true feelings or tries to understand them to live as a human. I was the machine and my mom helps me understand humans more and I input the data from my learning experiences to be able to function accordingly and be a good person.
I smirked and said it seemed I evolved from a wind up clock to an AI. Perhaps one day I’d become a real human.

Ah… It has been a week or so since my mania died down. I’m still in recovery from all the energy I spent. Nothing much has really happened since my last entry or the entry before that. My mom’s birthday came and went. I gave her two DVDs of movies she liked. She was surprised I managed to find one of them. It was good to know she liked them. Her birthday fell on a Friday so we had her pick a place to eat. We ate at an Italian restaurant. My brother was there and he gave her a card. i never saw it, but she obviously was touched by the contents.
The weekend then came, Sunday my eldest brother dropped by and ate dinner with us to celebrate my mom’s passing birthday. He and I saw the last of the Terminator and he filled me in on the entire story and the sequel Judgment Day. It rather interested me.
On Monday I was completely out of it… I suppose on auto pilot. It concerned my dad because I was very quiet that day. Talking was not a strong suit and I really didn’t want to. Yeah, I could think, but it was rather foggy.The reason my dad noticed was due to his being around most of the afternoon. He got his car back finally. It looked as good as before. Ironically, after driving around to do errands, he later want to pick my mom up from work and the battery died when they tried to leave.
I don’t remember Tuesday much. My mom lost a crown/cap yesterday, though, and had to go to the dentist. I hope I never end up needing such a thing. It seems quite troublesome.
Speaking of dentists, I’ll see one around the twenty third next month. Oh, joy. I never really have had an issue with dentists, I just hate the waiting. Sure you can talk with the assistants and the dentist when your mouth isn’t being dug into, but it is still boring.
A thing I noted last night might as well be written too for the heck of it since it is still on my mind. It was after my mom and I watched some shows per usual. She was in the bathroom, so I was watching something that came on who knows when. It was the end of the show.
The scene was of a daughter being questioned in the interrogation room. The father is on the other side of the mirrored glass. He breaks and claims he did whatever they were accusing her of. Later he was interrogated by a man who didn’t believe he did it. In the end, the father was found not to be the criminal and he went on about how he couldn’t let his daughter go to prison and such.
Now, some might wonder how this led me to think of the time I came back from the hospital after a suicide attempt, but it did. I think it was due to the father crying over his daughter. In any case, I thought of that time.
I don’t remember it clearly anymore. I do know I was in my room, my dad was with me. He sat on my bed as I sat on my chair. He broke down crying. I don’t recall what he said, but it was obviously about why I would do such a thing, if I understood how much he loved me and such.
Thinking back to that… I don’t know if I’ll ever understand how much a person can love another. Perhaps no one does. I mean, considering I feel strongly for my parents, get worried over them, get annoyed with my siblings if they trouble them, et cetera… but I don’t know if that means I understand.
I don’t feel like I do. I know my dad loves me greatly, I affect him greatly and he wants me to be happy and never sad. I cannot comprehend the capacity though and cannot even do a comparison by looking at my own feelings. I just remember that when he cried that day, I told myself that as long as he and my mother were alive, I would never do such a thing again if I ever wound up driven to such a concept. I never wanted to my father cry like that over my actions.
I knew I could not bring such a memory up to my mother. I did such once, but it was a different reason. It was to tell her I realized that when I did it… I didn’t see any selfishness in the act. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought it would make my parents’ lives better.
My mom listened, but she didn’t like talking about such a dark time. Logically I understand. When such things occur though, I want to talk to those involved about it though. I suppose it is for clarification and all that. I wanted her to understand I was thinking of her and dad that night. That I made sure that when I left they wouldn’t have the thoughts that others do of, “I never got to say goodbye” or “I can’t remember when I last kissed or hugged her”.
Ah… I remember something. I wrote something of a will and sent it to my friend so he could pass it on to my parents… in note a part said, “Dad can have his office back.” He gave me his office so I’d have a room and not have to sleep on the living room couch anymore.
That had broken my dad’s heart hearing such. It didn’t occur to me at the time that it would. I felt like a burden to them. I sincerely thought it would make things easier on them not to have to deal with the fourth child who ultimately wound up being gloriously fucked up and didn’t seem to be getting any better.
They love me greatly though. Knowing that still puts me at loss. I’m aware they do and in all logic my caring for them greatly must be love. I still don’t understand really. At least, I don’t think I do.
My mom would likely tell me it is the Aspergers or something. Based on previous talks, she thinks it has something to do with that. The previous talks were due to wondering if I was a bad person for not understanding such things. I wondered if it was bad that I wasn’t able to feel the sort of love most seem to feel. Mom seems to understand and accept it though. I find that comforting. To try to talk to my dad about such a thing would only hurt him. I know he wouldn’t understand and many complications would arise.
Looking at my awkwardness when it comes to emotions reminds me of the times I used to feel like I wasn’t human. I guess that since I mostly interact with the cats in the house and my parents such a thing isn’t so noticeable for me and thus the feeling of alienation doesn’t arise.
Still… I guess it exists in me even now. I just don’t notice it as much.

Well, Saturday was a sleep most of the afternoon away day. Perhaps it was aftermath of the day before? The only thing truly accomplished was getting, bagging, packing and unpacking groceries and cleaning the kitchen. I really do not know when I fell asleep, but I woke around nine in the evening. I tended to the accumulation of dishes in the sink and stayed up. I ordered the shirt I decided to get my eldest brother. The only gift left would be for my second brother. Like my sister I think he doesn’t deserve anything, but have given in when it comes to him as well. I’m getting him socks. Heh.
Sunday I slept until about one since I was up all night. My dad put up Christmas decorations, my mom readied recipes, I watched a movie. My eldest brother and his girlfriend, Eryn, came over and they helped decorate the tree while hanging around and talking. My other brother came over and eventually dinner was cooked up and served. It was a big meal. Minestrone soup, corn on the cob, chicken breasts, salad, monkey bread and scalloped potatoes were the menu. I noted before we all sat down that I doubted I’d be able to eat all the things I liked.
Well, we said grace and then commenced. The meal was good. We talked, laughed and it was pleasant. I ate like how most people eat on Thanksgiving – I ate until stuffed. I even ate dessert which is something I rarely do. After that, I started to feel the effects of a food coma. Mom started cleaning up. My second brother helped her and eventually I did the big dishes when Mom was called away by my eldest brother, his girlfriend and Father.
Once I had that done I began to go into dozing mode. I struggled to stay awake at least until E. brother and Eryn left. They went out and my parents saw them off. Soon my other brother needed to go home so my mom left with him to drop him off. My dad decided to settle into bed and I decided by then it was safe to do the same despite it was only seven thirty.
I rested then and let my body continue in its pursuit to gather all its energy into dealing with the considerable difference in food consuming. My mom returned and was either shocked, peeved or something that Dad and I already headed to bed for the night. After that, I drifted off and didn’t wake again until midnight. Yeah, since Thanksgiving I’ve been mainly sleeping during the day again.
Monday my mom started her vacation, which really isn’t much of a vacation as it is a week to catch up on things she couldn’t get done during the year. She worked on ironing old clothes to be sent off to be resold; she did her exercising, met with a sponsor from her meetings and what not. I was up briefly in the morning to clean the kitchen and tend to some laundry, but eventually went back to sleep to wake up later around evening. I didn’t vacuum her room either since it was full of boxes of old clothes to be ironed. I was awake most of the night.
Tuesday was much the same. I slept until eleven thirty. I got up, tended to the kitchen, started the laundry, saw my mom come in, and took a moment to eat some cereal. My mom had another busy morning. I cannot remember the first exactly, but she did have an appointment with Cindy, my old therapist and then had to take my second brother to an appointment, was dropped off and then I saw her. She got ready to go out for exercising and I meandered back to my room. She left, I read and did a few things and eventually went to sleep again.
Mom returned home and woke me up around four; we watched recorded shows as she worked on more ironing. I vacuumed my room and my brother’s during a break and she kept ironing. Dad came home and the night pretty much went into the usual schedule. By nine I leave and head off to my room after tending to the dishes acquired from evening meals.
I tried to sleep around midnight, but after an hour and a half of no results I rose again and piddled about on the computer. A few hours I tried to sleep again but only started to dose a bit by five or so. I woke around eleven or so. I took a shower, did some chores and waited on my mom. We were to go shopping for gifts for her co-workers. During this time my brother came over as did my father. I think my brother was carpooling. Well, they eventually left and soon Mom and I leave.
She stopped by that shop she was ironing so many clothes for. We hauled in tons of clothes but they only took six things. Poor Mom. They said most of her things wouldn’t sell, which pretty much perplexed both of us. They were worn at most a couple of times and pretty expensive and yet not eligible for sale as far as they were concerned. My mom was pretty angry. We took the rest to the Salvation Army then and headed out of town. After about thirty minutes we arrive to the shopping district. Freaking cold it was.
My mom has three main stores she goes to for shopping there. We stopped by the first a place called “Remember Me, Too”. My mom found things for gifts, but decided we’d return later since there was no reason buying and lugging them around with us when we’d pass by on our way back to the car. So, we continued on. After that we headed on to another store my mom likes. It is pretty damn expensive in there, but they have some really lovely things. Sadly I’m not buying a hanging hand blown glass ornament for thirty bucks much less the crystal statues or glass art that goes over a hundred. Mom did find a small decorative piece to buy though and then we headed out again.
There was an Earth Bound in town and my mom liked sun catcher/wind chime I got in the previous one, so checked inside. I looked around per usual, and eventually pointed out the wind chimes to Mom. She grabbed a few and I got another one to equal out my other two. Our last shopping stop was unsuccessful at a place called “Hen Feathers”. It never interested me to go in there since the things sold were not of my tastes and the shop rarely changed. My mom found nothing in there either, so while we head out I asked Mom about stopping for something to drink since I get dehydrated easily anyway.
We stop at a place called “Java Ranch”. I got a Diet Coke and my mom had some hot tea. We rested there for a while and then headed out once her tea was at the right temperature and what not.
We stopped by the first store again and my mom got some different kinds of soaps she intended to get at the beginning and then to my exasperation she decided to look through the store again. Usually I am patient over such things, but we had already looked through the store and now she was piddling. Well, she got a few more things. I think a candle and two ornament-like items were her finds. Well, before we get to the counter a woman gets there right before us, so we wait. I’m still holding my mom’s drink and my own but am too leery to set them down on any of the display cases. We finally get out of there though and head for the car.
We left the town around three thirty and returned home near four. My mom then got ready to go to the gym and I did my chores. Since I hadn’t eaten lunch at all I cooked a meal and vacuumed while waiting on it. Having eaten I spent a bit of time on the Internet and my father came home. Eventually my mom returns as well and started cooking her dinner as does my dad. They had a meeting to go to. My mom goes for self-help. My dad doesn’t understand the point of such meetings and goes for “the sake of others”. It annoys my mom like mad. I simply tell her Dad is a dork and he isn’t going to get anywhere yet since he hasn’t even gotten near the first step. Oh well.
Well, a bit before the time they leave, I settled on her bed and snuggled up to our oldest cat Tiger. Thursday is my cat’s day of surgery, so I put away all the cat food since he couldn’t eat after six onto tomorrow. I fed him some food twenty minutes before six though. Poor Atty. Anyway, I wound up dozing off around six thirty and woke again once they returned an hour later. Things got settled and we ended the night with TV watching as usual.
At nine my mom decided to watch one more show, so she and I headed out to the living room so my dad could sleep. Halfway into the show I began rearranging the decorations on the tree since some were utterly cluttered, some weren’t hung securely and others were really fragile so I was double checking their sturdiness. I continued on, listening to the show and working on the tree. I continued on after the show ended and my mom went on to bed. Around ten thirty or so I stop, turn off the lights and gather my cat. We headed to my room. I tried to sleep again from around twelve and on, but it was still of little use.
I got up at seven thirty and brought my cat to Mom and he was put in the little kitty carrier to be dropped off at the Vet clinic while she took my dad to work. I headed back to bed then and didn’t wake up until around two.
I did my chores and later helped my mom by putting Christmas letters into envelopes with cards and sealing them. With how dry my mouth and throat tend to get, it was troublesome, but I survived. Heh. At one point she left for her massage and I spent time dusting the house and added dusting the curio cabinet to the list. I then vacuumed and mom soon enough came home again. We left to pick up my cat. He had sleepy eyes but seemed fine. Upon return I placed him in my room with a little food and a bowl of water. I had to go out again. My mother and I went to CVS to pick up some medicine for my mom’s toe and some water for me. We also grabbed some Pledge as we were at it since I used up the can and didn’t get a few things dusted. After that we headed home.
I cannot remember much after that, but I believe we settled down for our usual television watching. Atty was still sleepy eyed but his spunk kept him semi-playful and active. Around nine my mom and I change rooms since my dad wanted to sleep. I fooled with a tree a bit, still looking for kinks in the decorating and the like. Atticus seemed to simply wish to do his usual routine. He didn’t “attack” any of the cats, but he did wander and explore like usual.
When the shows were watched and it was near ten, I grabbed Atty and headed for my room as my mom headed for hers. I think I actually fell asleep around twelve this time, but still did not wake up until eleven. I woke up at that time because my mom came in and asked me to put stamps on the letters I dealt with the day before… so I woke up, never left the bed and got to work. Heh.
I got up, did some chores, ate breakfast and my E. brother’s present arrived in the mail. I showed it to Mom and eventually dad came home, so I showed it to him and I then wrapped it. I also got some little zip-lock baggies that I’ve been needing for a while and spent about an hour organizing stones I collect by placing and labeling them in said baggies.
Now I am here. Later on tonight my mom and dad will be off to the Christmas party at her work. I don’t really know what I’ll being doing tonight. Tomorrow I will be a year older and my mom plans to take me to the town we went to shop at earlier in the week to buy me a birthday lunch. Any other plans are beyond me other than that a week from today I see my psychiatrist. Hum…
Well, I shall be off. I need to vacuum… again.

Dad is also a dork… God, please help him.
My mom came home early this afternoon. She went walking, ate dinner, watched half a show and went to a meeting at six thirty. My dad and I finished watching said show and I fixed myself something to eat. Around seven fifteen my brother calls up. My dad became upset and pretty much does his usual “blow things out of proportion” act. My brother called asking to talk to my mom, but as said, she was gone. Dad tried calling her. She either had her phone turned off or left it in her car I guess because he couldn’t contact her.
I did my best to ignore him, so focused on my food and the rest of the show. Usually when he is like this, I tend to get worried, frustrated, sick or something. My main coping measure these days it detachment I guess. So, yeah… I did my best not to notice. It is all routine anyway.
Dad, as usual, was angry at my mom. He always blames her when she isn’t around during a crisis. My dad can’t handle anything that might occur in the family. This wasn’t a crisis. I was rather annoyed. My mom underwent emotional trials because of the son he was worried about. She was at the meeting to help her cope or some such. He said she needed to be here and not at some meeting. I believe I rolled my eyes over his comment. He later goes out to the garage and paces. My mom finally comes home and he of course was mad at her and whatnot. Oi. She simply told him to stop and called my brother back. Good for her.
Well, they talked and the conversation sounded fine from what my mom’s voice sounded like in the other room. In the end, my brother simply didn’t have meds he needed. He never got in an appointment with his doctor on Monday and Tuesday was of course a holiday. Today, his doctor was at his main office that happens to not be here, so there were difficulties. It was nothing to get panicked over. My brother just needed to talk and find out how to get his meds.
Well, mom helped my brother… they got in contact with the doctor after much miscommunication and glitches and the doctor got the meds prescribed. My brother should be able to get them soon. He called my mom not to long ago to tell her I guess. They talked. Mom relayed how insane Dad was being and I added in a comment. They laughed a bit and eventually hung up. I then asked what the whole deal was over and sighed. I figured it would be as much.
My mom also talked about the meeting she went to. It seemed beneficial I guess. She seemed pleased with how it went, so that is great. After that she headed out of my room, I wished her a good night and hopes that she sleeps well and now I’m here finishing this.
Heh… it is so interesting how one day I’ll be frustrated over one person and then annoyed with the next when both people were on opposite ends elsewhere. About the only one who doesn’t do such ridiculous things would be my mom. I’m always sympathetic with her.
I love my dad… but he is a strange, sick, co-dependent, loving, well-meaning man. He just really has bad perspective on how dire a situation really is I suppose. I could go on about all his frustrating oddities… but I don’t have the mind or interest to right now… I just think back to the one wish I’d make when it comes to him. Please let him find some sort of inner peace… nirvana… whatever. It would do him good.
Last words… despite all that is happening… I am actually grateful. Compared to plenty of families out there… mine is likely quite tame. We are all just relatively nuts be it the good kind or the bad.