Technical (And Literal) Difficulties

      I have been getting really fed up with my mouse and keyboard. Maybe it's because I have Windows 10 and all my drivers are out-dated, but if I try to zoom in (which is a lot when writing or playing games) it would zoom all the way out instead, and be very difficult to zoom back in. Conversely if I tried zooming out, it would zoom in! And my keyboard has several buttons that are sticking; I asked my brother to take it apart since his screwdriver isn't exactly labeled "Keyboard," and, well, that was last night. So anyway, rather than help me take it apart, he gave me his spare keyboard...except it's in even worse shape and naturally we had to Humpty Dumpty. I mean, put everything back the way it was, not throw it all off a bridge, which I think would feel excellent.
      More attention on the house. Negative attention. I'm starting to feel like a celebrity, only without the money and satisfaction. But, hey, speaking of money, there is some good news. I got a coin worth $20,000 and it was recently in an auction, going up to $50. And that was last I heard, so it could be worth even more now. I don't really care; personally I'd be thrilled to be worth $1,000. Can still buy a computer. Although I had another mouse in my desk which is behaving much better. I replaced that one with the mouse now in the trash, but I can't remember what was wrong with this one. Guess I'll find out soon enough.

      Been going to the park a lot trying to meet people. I hit a speedbump when I caught a cold, but now I'm back to it. I've met a handful of nice people, but I know I'll never see them again. It's always like that; I see them once and then it's like they leave town. 33 years here, and I have seen two people at least a second time. But I'm trying to convince myself that I don't need friends. I really don't want to sit there with someone who seems to like me thinking, "When and how will this person hurt me?"

      About a week ago, I met five people at once. Two of them were talking to me, and I was overwhelmed. Flattered for the attention, grateful for their concern, but it was a lot. I'm familiar with one person every few years. But honestly I've never been more hopeful to see someone twice.

     There are three types of people who have given me intimate attention; my cousin when he was a little boy asked if I'd marry him, I bet he didn't know what marriage meant. The strangers online, who don't even know what gender I am, and the young boy who wanted my phone number a few days ago. I really thought I was too busty to be mistaken for a 12-year-old, but I guess at least now I know why only kids are interested. Well, kids and the people who just can't wait to not talk to me.

      Why am I even on social media? I should just give up. Whatever, I have YouTube. Watching reaction videos helps me to feel less alone, especially when we laugh at the same time or they say something I've been saying for years. I love my smart TV so much. I never want to go back.

Happy New Year?

      (Post intended to be funny.)
     I always hate this time of year. Everybody always saying "Happy new year!" like it's something they have the power to bless me with. Or like they actually think we can put a calendar on happiness. I could be curled up on the hospital floor, I could be doing the fentanyl fold. "Happy new year!" "Be happy! Smile! It's 2026!"

      First of all, I don't give a squirrel's left nut, okay? Maybe I could be convinced to celebrate 2100. Until then, pipe down, no big deal. "We made it to 2026!" like, oh, it's such an accomplishment. Every person in the world took their turn moving the clock hand to the next minute.
      "Ah, we made it... That was close! The hand got stuck! Your Majesty, did the UK get to 2026, too?" "Almost. The very last person missed his turn, so now we're a year behind, the bugger."

      One number. One tiny number, and everybody's racing out the door to buy fireworks, pollute the environment, and blow off fingers. "This can't wait!"

      "Aww, your mom died, your pet ran away, and you got sick? Sucks to be you. Anyway, happy new year!"

STOP DREAMING!!!

       Stop it, you stupid body. Quit it.

      I had another nightmare, surprise, surprise. I was on an operating table, wide awake as the doctors cut into me. I had medical instruments wedged into the giant, gaping chasm in my stomach. The tubes poking out of me were squirting with my bodily fluids. Blood and...other stuff. Less red stuff. And the doctors decided to smear it on my face. You know, like tribal paint? Or something, I don't frickin know, I was tied up and whacked out, totally incapacitated.

      There was even more to that nightmare, but thankfully I seem to have blocked it out. At least until my dream picks up where it left off.

      I'm going to Google "medication to stop dreams" and see what comes up. Maybe I can find it in the pharmacy. Side effect, potential death? Yeah, I volunteer. I need rest!

      I am so tired of waking up feeling more exhausted than when I went to bed. It's too hard.

Interesting Dream...

       10/10, I dream about a bear. For the first time ever, I dreamt that I was the bear. It was so bizarre. I was frightening people, which I loved. But I was also being hunted, which I didn't. Either the cop had a dog, or a dog had a gun, I forget which.
      I liked being the bear. I didn't have to be afraid, because I was the monster.

A Dream From Hell

       I had the weirdest dream a few hours ago. A wolf-like creature was circling my family and me on the road. Its eyes were red, and its teeth shone with fresh blood. Its spine poked out of its back.
      My mother got out of the car. I grabbed a flashlight; it was insanely bright and had a flashing mode. I shone it at the creature, blinding and scaring it. It ran away, leaving my family to chastise my mother. And then I woke up.
      This is actually a good dream, because any other night, it would have torn the flesh off her bones.

I Need To Talk About Death

       So I got talking with this guy, and over the past few months I learned he lost someone. He said she's in a better place. The topic turned to suicide and I said I happen to think of it on occasion (well, almost every day and night, but I'm trying this whole new positivity thing) and he told me not to. So now, my dear nonexistent readers, I'm truly confused. Why is it okay for someone he loves to be in a better place, but not a stranger? Hell, if someone thinks of me as a friend, why would they ask me to extend my suffering as a favor to them? And then, plot twist, celebrate me getting older. Even laughing at those "Under the hill" cards.

      I mean, instead of freaking out about my suicide talk, what I really want is for someone to give me some clarity. Just clarity, that's all I want in life. Death is not a horrifying, repulsive subject like having a crush on your dad, okay? It's a natural freaking part of life! Don't people get that?

      Told me not to, like I can just wish it all away on a dandelion fluff. "Don't do it," the most convincing argument I've ever heard. Why is it okay for her suffering to end, but not mine? I'm a good person. I never retaliated when someone hurt me, I never tattled on that kid who tried to trip me in class, never got detention, never got grounded. Why shouldn't I be able to take away the pain when medication and therapy have failed?

      Is death gruesome? Yes... But let's be real. I have multiple organ failure. I'd much rather go out on my own terms. And I'd want the people who say they love me to prove it and accept that, instead of asking me to endure everything on their behalf. I am tired of having a charity existence! It is cruel to ask someone to keep living! It is the most hateful thing you can say to someone! I am so tired of being asked to suffer for as long as I can "because I love you." Just stop with that! Freaking stop with the manipulations.

      Our feelings are more transient than we are, and we are so inconsequential. Everybody dies and life goes on. We get over it, so get over it. I'm suicidal, take it or leave it. It's a quirk, like the weirdoes who like getting up early or going shoe-shopping, or who think getting pregnant on a planet with over 150 million orphans, is a "blessing."

      Clarity. Clarity on all the hypocrisy―please!

Upon Reflection...

       Man, I love my new TV! It's like, how did I have a heavy, giant TV for so long? Especially since the TV was so much bigger than the screen itself, so it took up a lot of space and the characters were still small. Kind of pathetic, really... Really, I can't believe I haven't had this one all my life.
      And, I hate to admit it, but I also really like short hair. I never thought I would say it, never thought I would want it. Believe it or not, my dear nonexistent readers, my long (knee-) length hair was the only reason anyone would acknowledge me...at least in a positive way. They either hold the door for me, which is only a common courtesy, or they give me the death stare like they want to take my life right there in the lineup. But when it was long, they would fawn over it and I felt special.

      But, it never helped me make friends, so I figured, what the hell? I was only comfortable when it was braided or I clipped it up in a claw, which kept breaking under the weight of my hair. Stupid cheap things. So, snip-snip, now it's shoulder-ish length and yeah, I love it. Actually I'm thinking about getting another cut, because since December last year, it's actually grown a lot...and I'm starting to shed like mad again. I try to comb it just a little, pull out a fistful. Turns out, nope, that is not for me... It's kind of stressful.

      How did I go all those years pulling hair out of my head? And pulling it out of my pants? I love long hair but it is so not worth it!

      I'm actually thinking maybe a little longer than chin-length, so pigtails or a ponytail would be kind of cute. Maybe not with my mug, but I remember it used to make me feel like a perky waitress. I kind of liked that, too, feeling perky.