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The end of me

 I think its probably time to close this blog. I have nothing positive to say.

Being a good person

So yeah, all I ever wanted to do was to be a good person. I got distracted for a long time by watching other people be rude, selfish idiots, and I acted superior, beleived myself superiour because my goal was to pay attention, consider everything, and just be a good person. In my distraction, I mostly called everyone else bad. I got bitter,  I became smug, and I was an ass. I had hate for people and no patience for ignorance or selfishness, but in doing so I lost the plot. I was ignorant, and I was selfish. I thought that I was doing better because I was mostly able to drop the bitterness, but I was still missing the point. So you know what? People are people, and I'm not so smart. I still just want to be a good person. Its a work in progress.

And I want to be able (as in allowed) to take care of my son, and to teach him how to be a better person than myself. He needs his dad, and his dad doesn't think its appropriate or even remotely healthy for him to be raised by his dumbass passive-agressive great grandmother, which mostly seems to be happening just because his mom is more interested in making sure I'm not involved than in making sure that she's there for him herself.

Yeah, obviously its a work in progress, but can we just stop killing me, please? Seriously, just make it stop. Nobody needs this kind of abuse.

Anybody want to trade?

Worst. Life. Ever.

At least thats what I think now. But then, that's what I thought last week. And a week before that. And in August I really thought I'd hit bottom and things couldn't possibly get any worse. It keeps getting worse.

So yeah. Worst. Life. Ever. Until tomorrow. Fuck you, tomorrow. Fuck you in the eye. I can't take much more of this.

I'm not especially religious, but I think I'm being tested by God. I said a long time ago: I want to be a good person, and here are my values. Now God wants me to prove it, and he's got a mountain of trials all lined up to break me.

Yeah, wah wah me me, but come on, man! How much more can there possibly be? How can things possibly get any worse?

She'll find a way to make it happen. She's on a mission from God. And if she doesn't, God will. I am the all singing all dancing crap of the world. All I ever wanted to do was be a good person. Goddammit.


I think she's actually having *fun* dumping me, calling me names, taking everything I've ever worked for or care about, and generally doing everything she can to make sure I don't have any future and never get to see my son. Seriously. Go read her blog. She's just getting happier and happier, and no mention of me other than the occasional 'ugh', prompty followed up by 'do you want me to kill him?' type remarks by her friends. I, on the other hand, contrary to what she would have people beleive, cannot remember a worse or more pressingly serious time, or experiencing more pain or frustration ever in my life, and I have been so emotionally crippled that I cannot even walk from one side of the room to the other without breaking down in a flurry of tears at some times, let alone defend myself from the burning mountain of hate that she seems to have accumulated for me. I have been nothing but good for this person and she wants to see me burn. It seems to make her smile. I don't get it.


Had enough?

Its always darkest before the dawn; what comes around goes around; every cloud has a silver lining; don't shit where you eat... you know, all that crap. Another day, another dollar; where's my dollar?, etc.

So just for the record, in case you haven't been paying attention lately, I'm getting pretty well and permanently screwed, here. So here's taking orders for the eminent dancing on my grave thing. Who's next? Santa?

Hi Santa, have a beer. Its brewed from the very best fermented souls of well-meaning individuals everywhere - those suckers, one in particular is especially fresh and spicy this year - and sprinkled cheerfully for the holidays with a light decorative dust made up exclusively of the crushed bones of fallen angles. God sends his best. Bottoms up!

Drunk yet?

Raine's pollywog video post

For Project Pollywog visitors who can't see Raine's video post on www.stephenandraine.com, follow this link to view it on the original LiveJournal page.

Pollywog technical update - more photos

I've added another Project Pollywog photos feed to www.stephenandraine.com for my Ewan pictures on Google Picasa. Yes I'm using Picasa instead of Flickr. No, I'm not sure that's a good idea, but yes, I'm doing it anyway. And yes, that means I have a bit more work to do in order to get things displaying a little better, but the bottom line is that there are new pollywog pics online for grandma. Thank you.

Now that I have this working I'll be adding more photos of my own as time goes on. I've just started with a small collection of my favorites. (I made the cakes, by the way. :))

Remembering the sun

Treat yourselves and each other with respect, and remind yourselves often of what brought you together. Give the highest priority to the tenderness, gentleness and kindness that your connection deserves. When frustration, difficulties and fear assail your relationship, as they threaten all relationships at one time or another, remember to focus on what is right between you, not only the part which seems wrong. In this way you can ride out the storms when clouds hide the face of the sun in your lives -- remembering that even if you lose sight of it for a moment, the sun is still there. And if each of you takes responsibility for the quality of your life together, it will be marked by abundance and delight.

This is a Buddhist blessing; one of the blessings that I requested to be read at our wedding.

Shiny spot

My new computer speakers go **loud**, thus bringing a small bit of joy and increasing my productivity a little bit. Good news in an otherwise sticky sea of negative posts. Thanks to the big guy for that. You know who you are. :)

Oh Holy Hell

Dammit. After reading through my last few posts it appears that I have been sounding a lot like a slightly more pissed off echo of Ms. Screepy Ryanoserous. Hey Screepy, what do you think about getting some booze and doing something Screepy-able sometime?