another rant? YES ANOTHER BLOODY FUCKING RANT

i don’t know when writing stopped working for me

i don’t know why it stopped working for me

i don’t remember when i became an addict

i don’t remember why i became an addict

i don’t remember how i became an addict

 

the sound of my fingers hitting the keyboard as I’m typing away like a madwoman used to be soothing in itself

even if i wasn’t writing anything worth reading

anything about anything

i can’t remember when that stopped

i can’t remember when that wasn’t enough anymore

 

when i get like this, everything is a blur

 

i tried to go out

i have a job to do and I’ve been failing miserably at it

i was asked to do one simple thing

ONE THING

and i can’t even do that right

 

i tried to use that as my motivation to stop isolating myself from humanity

didn’t work

but there is no try. you either do it or you don’t

and i can’t just NOT do it

so being the stubborn bitch that i am, i set out to do it, with a smile on my face and positive thinking on my side

i figured if i went into it thinking that things would go well, than i would come across as a more friendly, fun, and likable person, and things would be more likely to go actually go well

 

unfortunately i did not realize just how bad an idea it was to do this while I’m quitting smoking and in the midst of really uncomfortable nicotine withdrawal. in addition to triggering a complete mental breakdown, getting me CARRIED out of a bar LITERALLY kicking and screaming, and going on a loud and violent rant about how addicts are people too and anyone who has never had any problems in their life (big or small, of any kind) is either a total fucking liar, incredibly sheltered, or insanely fucking lucky….

it was also a brutal reminder of why i hate women

ironic, right?

a feminist who hates women

but for the most part, I’m really starting to believe that i do

almost every woman i come into contact with is a total and complete bitch. and not the good kind of bitch. the few women that i get along with at work are bitches, as am i. but the kind of bitch I’m talking about is just an evil hateful bitch for no reason, the scum of the earth judgey antifeminist antianythingoutsideofthenorm type of bitch.

 

I’m starting to see more and more that as a whole, women judge each other just for the hell of it

we treat each other like shit because we feel like shit about ourselves

WHY THE FUCK DO WE DO THIS

WHY CANT WE JUST SEE IT FOR WHAT IT REALLY IS AND ADDRESS THE REAL FUCKING PROBLEM

the answer is: most women are too fucking scared to admit that they are not perfect

and to accept that they have issues

and that it makes you feel better to make someone feel as shitty as you

and that its not just the crazy ones who doubt themselves sometimes or who don’t always know what the “cool” thing to do is or who don’t always have their shit together 100%

everyone has days like that

everyone has moments like that

WE ARE HUMAN WE MAKE MISTAKES IT IS NOT POSSIBLE TO BE PERFECT ALL THE FUCKING TIME

 

women are the most clique-y people..no..ANIMALS on the planet

if you’re not in the “group” than you’re not good enough to be around them

if you’re not stick thin with perfect hair and makeup and the most fashionable clothes, YOU ARE NOT GOOD ENOUGH

WELL EXCUSE ME FOR BEING A REAL HUMAN BEING AND NOT STARVING MYSELF (well not anymore anyway)

EXCUSE ME FOR PAYING BILLS INSTEAD OF BUYING THE HOTTEST NEW CLOTHES

EXCUSE ME FOR BUYING SHIT THAT LOOKS GOOD ON ME INSTEAD OF WHAT LOOKS GOOD ON A HANGER OR WHAT LOOKS GOOD ON A MODEL SKINNIER THAN MY FUCKING THIGH

EXCUSE ME FOR NOT WASTING HOURS TRYING TO TAME MY INSANE HAIR WHICH HAS A FUCKING MIND OF ITS OWN

BUT OHHHNOOOOO ONE HAIR IS OUT OF PLACE

LET ME GO BACK HOME AND REDO EVERYTHING

AND WHILE IM AT IT, WHY DONT I JUST PLASTER ON LAYERS UPON LAYERS OF CAKEY MAKEUP SO MY FACE WILL LOOK AS FAKE AS YOUR PERSONALITIES

 

NO. fuck that

fuck fake ass bitches who think they’re better than everybody else

im not trying to be your best friend. just have a conversation.

 

 

but there are things you want me to be sorry for that ill never be sorry for:

  • having boobs—fuck you, i didn’t ask for them, i didn’t want them, and even if i did, how do you justify hating someone you don’t even know just because they have bigger breasts than your whole little clique combined. stop being jealous and ill help you buy bras to make your itty bitty shit look less sloppy (SIDENOTE: HOW THE FUCK DO YOU MAKE BOOBS SO SMALL LOOK SO FUCKING SLOPPY!??! I DONT UNDERSTANDDDDDDD…..sorry, is that too many D’s for you? i don’t want to overwhelm you or anything)
  • liking star wars or other “nerdy/geeky/dorky” things—-SHUT YOUR FACE IF YOU DONT LIKE IT. THAT DOES NOT GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO STICK UP YOUR NOSE AND JUDGE PEOPLE, ESPECIALLY IF YOU ARE THE ONE WHO BROUGHT IT UP
  • playing video games—-BITCH DONT BE MAD YOURE NOT AS BAD ASS AS WONDER WOMAN
  • reading comic books—its relaxing. i enjoy it. why is that a crime?
  • being smart—-don’t even get me started. i just…i can’t. goodbye. go choke on a dick.
  • reading—see above. illiterate sack of shit.
  • wanting to do something meaningful with my life—no, i won’t be rich. no, it won’t be easy. no, i don’t plan on marrying a guy for money and living off of him. why is it such a crazy idea to want to help people? why is it bad that i am not going to choose a career based on how much money ill make? i want to do something that i will enjoy, something that will make a difference. i know social work has a high burnout rate. i know this shit is gonna fucking suck sometimes and that I’m gonna see shit that is going to break my heart. but if i can help even just one person, get one woman out of an abusive home, help one child escape the clutches of a negligent or abusive parent, help one person get whatever it is that they need, whatever will help them….if i can help ONE PERSON, I’m willing to suffer through the gut wrenching heartache of the things ill see. and maybe i won’t last for as long as i hope to, but there’s more to social work than social services. i can do everything i would have done as a psychologist (except for psychological testing) as a social worker. the pay may be less, but especially with all the changes in health care and insurance plans, its actually easier to maintain a practice as a social worker than it is as a psychologist nowadays. which is sad, because I’m sure a lot of people don’t realize that going into the clinical psychology field, and they rack up student loan debt for extra schooling that (depending on what they want to do with their degree and license) may not even do much to help their career. but i digress. back to the shit I’m not sorry for…
  • not being a pussy ass bitch—-WHY DO YOU ALWAYS NEED A MAN TO SAVE YOU, LEARN TO HOLD YOUR LIQUOR, LEARN TO CARRY YOUR OWN SHIT, DONT WEAR HEELS IF YOU CAN’T WALK IN THEM, DONT START A FIGHT YOU CANT FINISH, DONT TALK SHIT ABOUT SOMEONE WHO CAN BASH YOUR FACE IN BLINDFOLDED WITH ONE HAND TIED BEHIND HER BACK…ok let me stop before i get carried away
  • having tattoos—-SERIOUSLY?! WHAT CENTURY ARE YOU LIVING IN
  • having red hair—because that clearly makes me a threat. or the devil. or both.

 

ok i need to stop. my hand is bleeding all over my computer.

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