me praying and thanking the lord for this wonderful meal
you ate her out to hey arnold
I used to be a good person. And then, I was awful. I made bad decisions. I did horrible things. I never stopped being me, but I wasn’t myself. I’ve never liked myself, I honestly can’t remember a time where I did, not even for a second. I’ve seen the errors and mistakes, and I’ve tried to right them. No matter what I do to make up for the past, it will never change the fact that it happened. It won’t take away the guilt, or the regret, or the sadness. I’ve done the best I could possibly do with what I’ve been given. And I have been given a lot. I am so grateful to those that have given me something, anything, and especially to those that have stayed through it all. I didn’t and don’t deserve the kindness from them. But I am so grateful. Which is why I feel even more guilt for the way I’ve been feeling these past few months. Despite all of the second, third, and fourth chances I’ve had, despite all of the wonderful things people have done for me, I’m stuck on the things I don’t have, and the people who didn’t make it, and the people who didn’t or won’t ever stick around. I wish I didn’t care so much about what other think of me. I wish I didn’t care that some people won’t and don’t ever want to take the time or chance to get to know who I am, who instead judge me based on what I’ve done. Perhaps out of legitamate fear that I will do something awful to them. I understand that, more than anyone, I do, but it still doesn’t keep me from getting upset, or feeling lonely, and ultimately regretting my past. I really fucked things up for myself, and others. I’m so sorry to everyone I hurt. I never thought I was. I knew I wasn’t doing the right thing, but I thought I was only hurting myself. All of a sudden I have this clarity, where I just know better. I have no desire to repeat my mistakes any more. I still have regrets, as I always will, and this awful guilt that holds me back from forgiving myself. It makes me feel worthless, like I don’t deserve to be anything but alone. On the brighter side, it doesn’t make me feel like acting on it. It would only cause more pain and burden for the people I love, and I can’t do that anymore. I want to be worth something, and actually feel that I am worth something. I want others to trust me, and more importantly, to trust myself.
So, I work at the local Royal Farms. Disgusting, right? I know.
Anyways, we sell porn magazines, and we sell a lot of them. Being a girl (who doesn’t give a fuck and watches tons of porn), selling porn to creepy dudes, I find it hilarious when they get really nervous, and kind of babble to me about the weather to take the focus off the fact that they are buying porn from someone who could very well be their own daughter.
I tend to end our boring , awkward conversations with “Aw man, did you see the May issue of Penthouse? So hot.”
The looks on their faces.
Of coming home from work at 1am, smelling like fried chicken and ass.
And not being tired enough to sleep, but too exhausted to do anything but lie in bed. I need to spend a day with my bed. Also, a new job would be nice.