It's entirely insane to me how a person can just want to type things to impress a person that they will never see again, just to feel like they're the same kind of person. It's strange how insecure I am about things like that. Maybe I'm broken in some way, or maybe I just feel the need to be validated because i don't do the things that I know I need to do in my daily life and it kind of just bleeds through. Like I know that I should do my laundry, go to school, save all my money and pay off old mistakes, but then I don't and so I want to fool people into thinking that I'm awesome so that I can experience what it feels like to be awesome, even if in a weird, falsely vicarious kind of way. I dunno.

But man, Chels and I.. Fuck me I don't know what to feel or think about that, so usually I don't. I just keep going on and doing Zack stuff, like being too lazy, spending poorly, reacting instead of acting. Man, I tried to think of her and what she means/feels to me, but I half-way felt like there was some kind of block in the way. I don't know, maybe I want there to be a block, because that would mean that I'm traumatized and not just a psycho who can't even feel grief right, but you know, who knows? Maybe I am a loser psycho who can't feel things right. I sure feel like that a lot. lol I feel. ha.

Then there's the whole situation with fixing up that trailer that I was given, to buy. lol Funny how those things work. "hey, Zack, we got you a car! Now make the payments!" .. "But, parents.. I didn't get to pick it and I'm making the payments, now? Why couldn't I have come with you that day?"

Feels like that type of situation again, but instead of being laughed at for driving a girly Neon, I got a trailer house full of gay porn and old video games. Hell, I can't complain, though. I mean, I've fucked my life up with my two lungs, one puff at a time.

It was actually pretty cool to have gotten all of that SHIT out of their, both dumpster loads, and looking in and seeing that mutha fucking floor of mine. Sure, I'm gonna have to replace that shit, but whatever! I'm going to make it nice.

I felt that feeling, that I'm going to make that place nice, for the first time today. It was cool. I'd just been feeling like an insurmountable amount of fuck-my-life the whole time I'd been working in there so far, and then today, driving to work, I thought of the floor and how, really, all I am is a paycheck, a sledghammer, some plywood, some screws, and a table-saw away from having that bitch livable. Well, and ordering the roof, but that takes like a day once it's in. Perk of trailer houses. Ha. That's a sentence you don't hear often: perk of trailer houses. Feels pretty good though, imagining myself in that place, all set up in the living room, out of the hair of my family! I know I'm a trying ass guy. I mean, geeze.. My mom's wicked smaht, and she feels insecure talking to me because of how much trivial shit I know and how.. assertively I've corrected people during the years after addiction when I was like some raging hulk monster of pith. Man.. Those were shit times. I just want to be like "mom, you know way more about living than I do, so I'm sorry to try to make it seem like I'm all knowledgeable and shit. I only do that because I hate myself really bad, so don't feel bad! Oh, you're my mom so that makes you feel worse? Fuck me! Ok, then!"

I know it't not fair to expect my family to just forget those years, when I kind of made the memories of that time pretty sharp for them. I mean, fuck. Remember that time when I put on the roof for them, and I looked out at Chelsey's car, the grill, and was like "your car looks pretentious"? lol of course I remember. Who writes like that to themselves? Anyways, that was a good sign of how jacked I was. I was fucking seeing enemies in the grills of cars. Jesus. I know I can't expect them to just forget that time, and take me as I am, but at the same time, it sucks a bucket of dicks to be at least nicer than I was, if not more productive, and not have it be seen by the parents. I mean, you want them to be proud.. I wonder how much good in the world was done in the name of making parents proud. Probably a lot.