ROAD TO HAPPINESS: (Under Construction)

First off, update on my spider bite. My regular doctor sent me to a specialist at the Women’s Breast Center, where they removed a piece of dead tissue about the size of a half-dollar from my left breast. I now have a open wound that will heal shut with time, but it will leave a scar. (Pictures at the bottom of post.)

On to a thought or two...

Time has a sneaky way of slipping past a person when they aren’t looking. When you are young, you’re carefree, frolicking through the life with no thought to the next moment. As a teen you become invincible, and somehow you know the answers to everything. In your 20s and 30s you don’t really have much time to think about anything, you just move along, trying to make it to the next day. When you hit your 40s, something changes and you realize you are probably at the half-way point in your life. It’s that mid-life crisis thing, and you’re convinced everything from there on has to go downhill. Anyway, that’s how my life has been.

Some of the more recent things that have happened in my life has caused me to seek out old companions, just to see where their life is now compared with mine. It’s been interesting reacquainting myself with some of the people I went to high school with on facebook, but its also sad thinking about the fact that it has been 25 years since I saw any of them. Time has blinked away, leaving nothing but memories...some good, some bad.

High school was rough. Not just on me, but others had their own demons to deal with. I guess I was just to busy dealing with my own demons to notice how the smartest kid in school had parents that were janitors at the school, and he felt shame because of that. He pushed himself hard after high school, fearing he would turn out to be no better than a janitor or a dishwasher. I never really noticed or thought it was that big of a deal, but it was to him. That’s why he fought hard to become someone better, someone who ran his own company, and then paid others to clean up after him. It took him 25 years of fighting to keep the demons at bay, but he finally won. He says he’s now truly happy.

There are days when I wish I could find the kind of happiness that he proclaims he is now experiencing. When I really think about it, my life hasn’t been 100% horrible, tragic, or devastating beyond recovery. I have had my days when I wished to end it all, but somehow I made it past those days, and was later truly thankful that I did. I will probably always have psycho thoughts, but I will deal with them when they occur. For now, things are quiet.

Spider bite before dead tissuse was removed.

After dead tissue was removed.
Picture from 2 days ago.

Living With Harmful Creatures Everywhere

WARNING GRAPHIC PHOTOS BELOW!!!!

I seem to have developed a new disorder, but at least this one I understand why. Last Sunday evening, around 7pm, I had just returned home from a long day. Wanting to relax, I took off my shirt for a more comfortable, older, I’m at home kind of tee-shirt. I then turned on the TV and laid back on my bed with a half-joint that I had gotten from a good friend. By the time I began to finally relax, I began feeling odd. My heart rate was racing too fast, I was beginning to itch everywhere, I was having a difficult time taking in a deep breath, and then I started coughing and coughing.

One hour later, my coughing finally begins to cease, but now the middle of my chest is on fire, and I’m getting the hot and cold chills. At my age, I freak out a little bit, and decide to go online and read about the symptoms of having a heart attack. (Instead of going to the ER right then and there....dumb me!) The main pain at the time was staying in the center of my chest and not spreading outward, so my thought was it was just from all the coughing I had done. And it was only hurting when I moved or twisted, so I felt safe that it wasn’t my heart, but something was wrong.

By 11pm, I was down. My body was completely drained and I could barely move. It was then that I noticed the large area on the underside of my left breast was swollen and discolored. On the right side there was a small, but still very red, irritated area. I still wasn’t putting it all together that I was having a reaction to being bitten by anything, let alone a Black Widow Spider, and decided I could ‘sleep it off. ’ I was quickly asleep, but within a short time, I was having the most extreme pain (rated it right up there with child birth) in my left breast.

Still, I kept thinking it would just go away, because I really didn’t have time to deal with what was happening. I was suppose to ride along with my older son the next day to show him how to get to his college campus at Spartan. He has never drove in the area, and was afraid of getting lost, plus I needed to come along and fill out more financial aide papers. Problem was by morning, my body had begun to shut down.

I couldn’t force myself out of bed, and all I wanted to do was sleep. I slept until 5 p.m. before a friend bought me some soup and water. I only managed to get down a couple bites of soup and a sip or two or water, before the nausea slammed my body. With the urging of my good friend, I got dressed and went to the ER.

By the time I arrived, the pain was unbearable. I only waited a few minutes, but it seemed like forever. I remember thinking, that I wished I had been brought in by ambulance so I could receive faster treatment. Finally, the nurse called me back and began asking me several questions and took my vital signs, which weren’t very good. My heart was racing 158 beats, my temperature was 103*, my blood pressure was high, and I was sweating. I showed her the spot on my breast, and told her my chest was hurting. She quickly got a wheelchair and took me to a room.

Everyone quickly rushed around me and began hooking up monitors, blood pressure cuff, oxygen, EKG, while one nurse hooked up a IV in a vein that kept collapsing. They gave me morphine for the pain, which helped for my chest, but the pain in my left breast was steadily intensifying. They then gave me more pain medication, and began running numerous test and x-rays.

My entire body ached from head toe, and it was very difficult to move or breathe comfortably. Inside my breast, it felt like someone was squeezing the inside tissue with a handful of needles, every few minutes. A little after midnight, they took another large vial of blood, to make sure no damaged was being done to my heart.

Around 1am, my son came to pick me up after they decided it was safe enough to release me. They gave me a round of steroids, more pain medication, a heavy duty antibiotic, and the scripts to get more filled. I crashed hard the minute I got home, but sleep was never deep. I repeatedly had fears of being bitten again, because I hadn’t found what bit me, and along with all the pain, sleep was not an option.

At least I now fully understand what the deal is with steroids, and why men like them so adamantly. But damn, it doesn’t let me sleep much, and I think I’m eating way too much. Still, if that is what I have to do to deal with this infection, then I’ll just worry about how I’m going to react to coming off of them later. (Watch out police department...just a joke....or is it?)

Tuesday I went to see my own doctor who put me on even more steroids and stronger antibiotics, along with what I’m already taking. I developed a severe rash from the pills, but if I can’t take them, then it means going to the hospital for IV antibiotics, so I’m fighting through the horrible itching.
Anyway tomorrow is day 7, and the wound looks horrible. I’ve been doing some research on what is expected to happen, but my doctors reaction alone tells me, its not going to be better for a very long time.

So, I now have arachnophobia... A extreme fear of spiders.
(To my followers...please forgive me if I'm not around for a little while...thanks for stopping by.)

Warning graphic photos:

Day 2


Day 3

Day 4

Day 5

Daily Life Goes On

All day long I’ve been walking around with all thoughts on what to blog about, and I just really can’t seem to stop on just one line of thought. I usually try to force myself to post a blog on this site at least 4 times a month, no matter what my mood may be for that day. If I don’t do this, I feel my mind becomes cluttered beyond recognition, and I will seek out relief in non-standard ways. I honestly don’t like going to those extremes, and hope I never have to go that far into the darkness again.

So let me clear my throat (love that song).
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yqfCluBH3qY

For days now I’ve been so busy helping my oldest son get his life in line, that I really haven’t had much time for me. Which is actually good, because staying busy has kept me from doing things like my last act of stupidity. But tonight I’m alone. Alone with my thoughts, and I’m struggling hard to let them try to form into something coherent enough to put into words.

I can’t say that I’m unhappy, or happy right now. I just exist. Mostly I exist for my boys. If it wasn’t for them, I would have checked out of this life a long time ago. Focusing in on their needs has been my lifeline to staying in the real world. I guess I’m like most parents, I want to give them more than what was offer to me when I was a teen.

It all started a couple weeks ago with me taking both my sons to the DMV. My 19-year-old had yet to pass the test, because he just didn’t study enough. After failing the test for the second time, I think he was afraid of failing again, so he didn’t try again until almost a year later. And then it was only because his 16-year-old brother wanted to get his learners permit.

Nobody had better ever tell me I don’t love my boys, because after only getting a couple hours of sleep, I got up at 5:00am to make sure we were the first ones at the DMV. A light rain fell as I drove along, jacked up on a large cup of French vanilla coffee. My thoughts kept running to, “I hope the rain stops before my older son has to do the driving part. I don‘t want him to wreck the car I just got in May.” I was more worried about that than him passing the test. Mother instinct told me they would both pass the written part, and they did.

Both of them had the biggest smiles on their faces, which made me feel really good. The rain ended, and my older son took off in my car. Ten minutes later he returned with a big smile on his face...he was now a licensed driver. All week the smiles have continued, as I let my younger one take the wheel on the way to the store, or on his way home from football practice, and my older one has the dream truck of his life. I’ll admit, I love the truck myself, and the price was really good.

I just hate all the crap that comes with getting a vehicle. The salesmen are like vultures, hovering and circling above the meat, waiting to dive down and grab a bite. Then there’s all the paperwork, and the signing of this and that, agreeing to ... Etc... In the end all that disappears when you’re driving away from the dealership, inhaling the fresh scent of a new/used vehicle. It’s even better, when that’s your first vehicle. I felt deeply for my son.

Some people have already told me that I went to far when I helped my 19 year old son get his first dream truck. But again, I want to give my boys every opportunity I never had, to achieve their dreams. It’s stressful agreeing to a large loan for my son, hoping he doesn’t fail and leave me having to figure it all out. Still, I sucked up the stress and did it anyway.

He should start Spartan in a couple weeks, and things are really going to get hard on him. And I’m going to be there for him, as much as I can be, signing papers, agreeing to loans, paying for his gas back and forth...etc... Isn’t that what parents are suppose to do?

When the President of the United States got out of college, he owed over a hundred thousand dollars in loans, but look where he is now. When my first son finishes school, he will owe a lot of money, to a lot of people, but hopefully he will have learned enough to get a really good job and be able to have a very successful life after I am gone. When it’s time for my other son, I will do the same for him.

I'm out for the night...

Hell, Maybe I'm Just Plain Psychotic

I’ve been spending a vast amount of time doing things ‘normal’ people would never consider doing, or even having the thought cross through their mind. Most of the time, I feel very little remorse about having psycho thoughts, so when they begin, I will sometimes let them bury me in the deepest hole, or fly me to the moon. I have safely done this in the past, so at that moment, I felt I had no reason to refrain from indulging in my hunger for stimulation. I just wasn’t fully aware of where my thoughts were going to take me this time.

Even to me, there is no obvious motivation behind what I did. Maybe it was because of my desire for excitement, or I was yearning for something more than my usually boost of adrenalin that I get from speeding. I just know that I had a strong overpowering impulse to deliberately do what I did, in order to relieve the intense tension that I’ve been experiencing for the past several weeks now. I was at a point, where I was willing to do anything in order to shock my system back to some sort of ‘normal’.

I’ve just been feeling incredibly powerless to cope with all the stress in my life, and the psycho thoughts were consuming my every waking breath, so I repeatedly began seeking out means to discharge all the tension by doing various activities, including many that are illegal, but caused no harm to anyone. Each one that I attempted, failed to help me stop the burial of my mind. With no control of my impulses, I went to extreme levels, but my actions finally managed to induce the euphoria that my mind needed/craved in order to stabilize my moods.

It has been many years since I had to bulldoze that hard to get out of my depression hole, and I hope I never again have to manufacture that kind of excitement, in order to elevate a potential crisis. At the time, I couldn’t envision any way to achieve the relief my mind was seeking, so when the opportunity presented itself, it occurred without thought. The euphoria continues to linger as I think back to my actions, which has been very helpful in stabilizing the chaos in my head.

It’s Labor Day weekend, so I’m going to have a couple of mixed drinks, and stay in the safety of my asylum for the night. Tomorrow, I’m going for my long walk in the woods at the back of Lambert Park, and enjoy the freedom my mind is experiencing.

I am writing this to prove

I once lived in a world which didn't understand

nor cared enough to find out...

My Mental War Rages On

I want to let go of the pain and let others have it.

I need a vacation or someway to get away from everybody and every stimulant. I feel blank. I can’t concentrate, I feel hopeless, helpless, you know, all the things that come along with having depression. I hate this part of being bi-polar, far worse than having the mania. I felt it coming at the beginning of the week and tried to head it off by doing activities that would lead my mind to other places, but it failed to work. Here it is the end of the week and feelings still linger around like a lost, starving puppy trying to find a home.

I went out a couple nights ago, driving around in my circles, letting the wind blow across my face, just so I could feel something more comfortable. Plus, I also have writers block going on, so getting away from others seems to sometimes help relax my mind. Problem is late at night it’s hard to find a place that is away from everybody, but still a legal place to sit in the stillness of the night air, to gather my thoughts.

I somehow thought I could get away with sitting at one of the local parks after 11p.m. I honestly believed I had until midnight, but the local PD let me know differently. At least they were nice when telling me the parks closed at 11pm, which disturbed my thoughts a little. It made my mind scatter towards reasons like, ‘why was he so nice to me?’ or ‘did he know why I was really there?’

After driving around in my circles for a little while, I settled like a old hound dog, at the end of a newly built road that would eventually led to new housing. I rolled down my car windows and enjoyed the fresh scent of the night air, drifting across the open field in front of me. I took several deep breaths, in an attempt to clear some of the clutter from my mind. But the more I thought about my daily struggles, and the struggles I would continue to have for many more years to come, the more I wanted it all to come to an end.

I let the darkness crept into my mind, and begin eating away any rational thought that might still be floating around in my head. I picked up one of the many sharp objects, I keep within reach at all times, and held the smooth metal in my right hand. Cutting for me, has always been a way to keep me from doing something even more stupid than simply laying open my skin.

I sat in the darkness with only a small light that illuminated one of my many spiral notebooks, and wrote 8 pages without looking up or letting go of the blade. The only thing that finally brought me out of thought, was the sound of sirens coming my direction. I watched a rescue unit, with lights flashing, fly past, followed by someone else with there lights going. I figured law enforcement would soon follow and one of them would surely see me sitting in the darkness. Instead of having to deal with them, or letting them see the small amount of blood that dripped from my arm, I started my car and began to leave the area. Problem was there was only one way out.

He didn’t hit his lights, but drove near my car window and told me he was just checking who was back there. He let me know that it was okay for me to park there and write if I wanted to, and to have a good night. Then he drove off in the direction the rescue unit went. Again my mind went to questions like before, ‘why was he so nice?’, ‘what did he really want?’ I didn’t want to take the chance on him or another officer returning, so I sat for only a few more minutes before I headed back to the staleness of home.

Since that night, all I’ve done is mostly sleep. I slept 12 hours, Wednesday and Thursday night, thinking that would help elevate some of the homicidal/suicidal thoughts from wrapping tightly around my throat and choking out what little life that remains. The bad days have to pass soon. I don’t want to go as far as loading the weapon, and then standing over them as they sleep, debating if I will pull the trigger or not.

I'm Corrupt

Corrupt

C - cannot follow law
O - obligations ignored
R - remorselessness
R - recklessness
U - underhandedness
P - planning deficit
T - temper


Take all the right actions, use all the right words and get by without any suspicion. It’s a quaint philosophy; fake it till you make it, and no one will be the wiser.

I see all these people hiding from reality, but I understand how vulnerable they truly are. In a way, I guess we’re all running away from something or someone, aren’t we? I figure it’s time I turned around and stopped running, and run head first into whatever I’m convinced is chasing me. Whatever it is, it knows my name and that’s probably what terrifies me the most.

Someone once called me ‘infamous’ and that stuck more in my mind, than what I was infamous for. I never really did anything worth talking about on the news, but I have had my briefs moments when things just weren’t as clear in my mind as they should have been.

I can’t really measure my sanity by any means; it’s been slipping away for years now. Each day I find myself falling deeper into the dark abyss, unable to grab hold of any dangling rope that might be offered. Even if it was offered, I’m not sure I would reach out to take it, someone would have to tie it around my body and yank me from the freezing darkness.

Total complete boredom has set in, so to make things interesting, I lie. I lie about everything, to anybody who will listen, but I mostly lie to myself. Making believe everything is okay, and somehow, someway, this is all just a bad dream that I will eventually awake from. I just have to find a way to keep my dark inner world from seeping out and infecting my outer world.

Hide the Keys to the Gun Case

I’m just a girl who doesn’t know who she is
Because the mind I once had, suddenly became his.

For all I really know, I might not even exist.
That’s one of the reason I sometimes cut my wrist.

If I wake up tomorrow and I don’t know who I am,
Will anyone tell me if they give a damn?

Maybe some friendly person will take pity on my soul,
And tell me all the things that will make my mind whole.

*********************
The truth is they will just let me parade around like a delusional person trying to find something I lost a long time ago.
*********************

Light Up a Smoke and Stick Around for Awhile

Today my thoughts are running around in all the wrong directions. I tossed and turned for almost 6 hours of sleep before I couldn’t stand laying in bed for another minute because of the pain in my knees. I started going to psychical therapy last week to learn new exercises to help strengthen the muscles around my knees, so I can prepare for surgery in a few more months down the line. I’m told I have to have total knee replacements if I ever want to walk without pain again. Not sure if I want to go through all that. Still, the therapy seems to be helping with some of the relentless pain.

To help take my mind away from the unbending pain, I began pondering things like, ‘What would happen if I ....” Soon the thoughts turned intrusive and bore deep into my recesses of my mind, and hung around like open sore that you keep picking at. Here is a few things my mind explored today.


I wonder what would happen if I ...

If I... Walked down a road with heavy traffic rushing by at 65mph, and I ‘stumbled’ in front of the passing cars, would the firemen come to wash away all the blood?

If I ... Found the tallest building in Tulsa and went to the roof to jump off, would anyone care enough to stop me?

If I... Picked up my hammer and smashed my computer into a thousand pieces, then threw it out into the street, would other people understand?

If I ... I saw someone wearing a bullet proof vest, could I aim for their head or crotch and still be able to kill them?

If I ...walked into the store and got an overwhelming urge to smash all the eggs on the floor, would I have to clean it up?

If I ... Swam down into the deepest water, could I make it back to the top in time?

If I... Took a baseball bat to the police station and just went crazy breaking all the windows in their new patrol cars, would I kick them in the nuts when they try to arrest me?

If I ... Burned something, could it be put back together?

If I... Interrupted Obama during one of his speeches, would I be tasered?

If I ... Stab myself, will I survive?

If I ... Stuck my hand in the garbage disposal, would it hurt?

If I ... Used an assault rifle, how many could I kill before someone stopped me?

If I ... Closed my eyes while driving, and pushed the gas pedal down a little harder, would I wreck?

If I ... Jump off a tall building, would that end the fear of me falling?

If I... Carry out one of these urges, will I find myself levitating with a extreme mood lift and accompanying euphoria?

Quote:
Others may think you are crazy,
but it is the genius inside you that is giving you those thoughts.
Let your crazy thoughts come and success will follow.

Other things I keep thinking about...

I keep thinking, “If I didn’t love them... I would put them out of their misery.”

As I stood behind a man at Wal-Mart, I thought about picking up one of the steak knives in my shopping cart and plunging it into the middle of his back because I felt he was looking at a little girl in the wrong way.

I saw a highway patrolman and couldn’t stop myself from following him into Q-trip, just so I could think about how it would be to take his life with my bare hands.


Acknowledging the darker, evil part of my human psyche... It exist within us all.

Being aware of the evil within allows me to control it, rather than merely ignoring it and letting it fester through my being to the point where it can overwhelm me when I loose control.

Once you get right deep down into the core of a persons being, we're all evil, malignant assholes who probably deserve to die.

Just how else could humanity come to sit at the top of the global food chain? Only by being the smartest, toughest, most bloodthirsty motherfuckers on this rock.

Can I control these intrusive thoughts?
Can I trust my own mind not to do something stupid?
One thing is that I am usually too damn busy or lazy to act on them, but of course if I get a day when I’m not tired, or busy... Then the world better watch out.

I’ll be alright, as long as the breaks don’t fail.

*************************
My court is tomorrow. I was hoping I could come up with enough money to pay the damn ticket before having to appear, but it looks like I'll have to make payment arraignments. Damn I hate fucking court! Too much stress. I don't do good with stress. Guess, I'll just have to come prepared.

Time For a Mind Fuck

****Warning Adult Material****

I’m obsessed with my pussy after I shave it smooth. I love the way it feels, the way it smells, hell even the way it taste is wonderful to my senses. Problem is I want to play with it all the time. I think about touching it while I’m walking through the store and I see some guy that looks like he would be fun to fuck. When I’m driving down the road and I hear a sexy song on the radio, I want to touch myself. Again I guess there’s nothing abnormal about that, unless you’re sneaking off into a public bathroom just so you can touch yourself.

I’ve never understood why it was expectable, healthy thing for a man to masturbate, but it was forbidden talk for a woman to even discuss such a topic when I was younger. There were so many things I had to learn on my own.

Then there’s porn. Most believe it’s not natural for a woman to want to watch porn. Personally, I don’t see anything wrong with watching porn, as long as everyone participating is over 18 and agreeing to what is taking place, porn can be very arousing. Sometimes a little too arousing.
I’ve been avoiding my other sites that just post information that has already been posted somewhere else on the web, and instead I’ve been trying to focus on writing more... Mostly some new sex stories. In order to get some fresh new ideas, I sometimes surf around to a few porn sites and watch various videos. I’ve been doing most of the ‘research’ in the evening when my older son is gone to work, and I’m alone for the night. I have one or two sites that I visit when I’m in the mood, but I will occasionally surf around and find a new site to visit.

Today I found a new site, and decided to spend a little time viewing the ‘mostly normal’ porn. Before I realized it, it was almost time to pick up my son from work. I quickly jumped into my car and drove towards his job. I’m just about to pull up, when I look at the time and realize that the clock on my computer was off again, and I still had almost 15 minutes before it was time to pick him up. Not wanting to sit around, I decided to go to the park near his job at Wal-Mart.

I drove to the back of the park, and found a place under some to trees to hide in the darkness. I felt safe enough there, but still I rolled up all the windows and locked the doors. I then put in a Prince CD and began listening to the song Cream. I immediately began thinking back to the videos that I had just watched. Flashes of hard dick being rapidly slammed into a woman’s pussy, flashed through my mind. The more I thought about it, the more I began to feel that all to familiar tingle beginning to stir deep in my lower stomach. I had never masturbated at the park, but the thought began seeping into the dark corners of my mind. It was shift change for law enforcement, so I figured I would be safe for a few minutes alone, and if anyone did come, I would be able to see their car lights before they had a chance to get close to me.

I left my car running, but turned out all the lights, and then I lowered the back of my seat to where it almost laid flat. I then spread my legs and put my right foot on the dashboard. This gave me plenty of room to reach down the front of my pants and cupped my freshly shaven cunt. I was still moist from watching the porn videos, so it was easy to lubricate my clit. I began twitching it back and forth between my fingers, making its little head swell. I slowly increased the pressure and stroked my clit up and down, pulling out my sweet juice from my hole.

I stopped a couple times when I had to look up to see if there were any cars coming. I didn’t want to have to explain to anyone what I was doing. I wanted it to be my little private dirty secret.

I continued listening to Prince as the song Darling Nicki began to play. I closed my eyes and went with the rhythm as I slowly worked my fingers up and down the sides of my clit. I was getting so close, but kept pausing to look up and see if any cars were coming, or if some stranger was staring in the window at me.

I looked down at the time and noticed I only had a couple minutes until it was time to pick up my son, and I hadn’t gotten off yet. At first I thought about stopping, but then I had this feeling that I was being watched, and something about that, made me speed up my stoking. Within in 30 seconds, I felt the swelling of my clit increase, and I began pumping out short little burst of cum. It continued pulsing from inside my hole, as I brushed my clit back and forth lightly.

Finally, I took a deep breathe and removed my hand from my soaked cunt. I couldn’t believe how much I had gotten off. I put my fingers one by one in my mouth and licked the cum from my fingertips. The racing of my heart slowed as I sat the seat back to its upright position. I quickly put my car in gear and left the park knowing I had yet another dirty little secret.

My game has continued for a over a week now, and each time I enjoy the thrill of what I’m doing a little more. I seem to be addicted to the possibility of some stranger lurking in the woods waiting to sneak up on me and catch me in the middle of my sex act. Now, I’m beginning to rethink this ‘thought’ after a close call a couple nights ago. I had just finished getting off and had begun to leave the park. Just as I was about to drive out, a police officer began pulling into the park. I almost froze.

He drove past me as I pulled over to another area so I could put my seatbelt on. I then expeditiously re-adjusted the seat and drove away, leaving him in the park wondering what I was doing. It also left me wondering what he was doing in the park at almost 11pm, especially since it was shift change. Have they figured out that criminals know when their shift changes and that is when some choose to break the law?

My thoughts turned to him coming up behind me and turning his lights on. I didn’t need another charge. I began wondering if he did stop me, would be able to smell the sex on my hand, even though once again I had licked my fingers afterwards? Would I then have to register as a sex offender if caught by law enforcement? The thought scares the hell out of me, but the thought is also what sent me right back to the park again tonight.

hehe...damn I'm a nasty motherfucker...lol
_______________________________________

Want to know 10 things about Women? Goto http://mspsycho.wordpress.com/

I Want to End This Existence

It’s one of those days where a person like me, wants to give in to all those voices that are failing to communicate in my head. I have no motivation to write, or finish writing one of the many stories I’ve started recently. My mind is completely unfocused, unable to concentrate on one thing long enough to complete the task. It’s like a toy ball thrown against the wall, bouncing around in a thousand different directions, then suddenly it comes to a stop and just lays there.

I don’t want to post any more crap about law enforcement officers fucking up their lives, on my other site What Happened to Protect and Serve? I don’t want to post any more fucked up stories about children being abused on my other site Crimes Against Our Children. I want to shut them down. I can’t handle the disappoint of mankind for another day. Cops, judges, teachers, coaches, ministers, mothers, fathers, etc... are continually breaking the law. Who the fuck are we suppose to trust? I can’t trust anybody. I have all these people who follow my blogs, but I just don’t care anymore.

I feel like my mind will never get a break.
So, I forfeit this fight for my family’s sake.
Evil eats me up alive, taking my soul.
Leaving me where I‘ll never feel whole.

Irrecoverable

The 'Monkey' is on my back, steadily flipping me on the ear.

Walking Through a Wet Tunnel

I want to do something insane like: robbing a bank; stealing everything from someone else’s house; breaking into a store and looting everything I see, even if its something I don’t really want or need, I just want to take it anyway, and try to make it mine.

I want to end my life by driving my car into a head on collision with some unknown victim, knowing I will be punishing them for some past crime that they committed. Maybe a good confrontation with law enforcement will send my senses in another direction. Maybe I'll go on a violent rampage.

I want to cut my arm in one hundred different places, just to watch the blood drip down from my arm, so I will know that I am alive. I want to run butt ass naked through the sprinklers in front of the fire department, fat fully exposed, boobs flapping in the wind, then be able to snap my fingers and disappear to another time and place.

I stare incoherently at the computer screen before me, suddenly realizing I’ve read the above paragraphs a dozen time trying to figure out its meaning. I don’t know what is wrong with me. I feel so lost. I can’t concentrate, and my body feels alien to me. I want this feeling to go away...NOW!

I feel highly sensitive to taste, smell, but mostly touch. I don’t want to feel anything on my skin. I feel the need to have the outer layers removed, discarded like old trash. New flesh, replacing the old and worn out.

I can feel: every foreign thread in my underwear; every single whisper of hair heavily brushing against the back of my neck; the breathing of air moving in and out of my nasal passageway. I feel the freshly washed white tee-shirt caressing my soft nipples; the blood flowing through my veins, in a steady rush to get somewhere.

I walk with eyes lowered, not wanting to see the flawed world around me. Dressing in black, to appear as a shadow, hoping the world for one day won’t see me.

I don’t want to be touched. It sets off too many emotions, feelings I don’t want to experience. It makes me feel ill today.

Should I listen to the voices and do as they instruct? I haven’t slept in over 37 hours and counting.

What more is expected of me? I’ve done all I can, and things seem to be only getting worse. When do they get better? Deep down inside, I know they don’t like me.

Lights...there are too many. It’s too bright outside, inside I want the lights down low.

Strong odors invade my entire being, clinging to every hair follicle.

Too much clutter! Things are out of place, just have too much stuff.

Can’t seem to unwind. Moods jumping and rapidly changing from minute to minute.

Want to leave all this stimuli behind. Got to leave, got to run, just need to get away from it all.

To Kill Again

I was with him longer than any man I've ever been with, so I suppose he had to die. He wasn't the most talented man in the world, matter of fact all he could do was work a eight hour shift, and then come home and lay down. Never able to do any of the manly things that I thought a man should be able to do. Like being able to change the oil on the car, fix the leaky sink, repair the carpet, or even doing little chores around the house. He didn’t do anything of these things. If it was to be done, I had to do it all.

I have days where all I want to do is take my life, just to save myself from all this pain and misery. I yearn for a sense of purpose that will define my place in this world. But I yearn for too much. Hope and expectation cloud the mind before delivering bitter disappointment. It is a lesson I have been taught time and again. It is a lesson I keep having to re-learn.

I remember when I first met him. He was thick, but in shape with a nice muscle tone underneath, but I hated the fact that he acted like he knew it all. Still, it was easy to take advantage of him. All I had to do was show him the pussy and he would give me anything I wanted or desired.

I never really seemed to bond well with others when growing up, I mostly prefered to be alone. I would spend hours alone, thinking about ways to inflict a slow death on some small creature I had caught. At 12, I broke down, and told my father that I could kill somebody and not feel bad, he beat me with a belt and sent me on my way. Taught me to keep my mouth shut.

Now here I sit, past 40 years old in my own house, hidden deep in the woods, far from prying eyes, with another fresh corpse sitting next to me. I guess it was partly my fathers fault. Maybe if he hadn’t sexually, physically, or mentally abuse me throughout my life, my life might have went a different direction. Maybe it’s the voices that I hear in my head, that makes me commit these crimes. Or it might be the thrill, the adrenaline rush, the sexual turn-on, or the high that I get from killing. Whatever it is...I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to stop.

Some people might think that I’m sick, a freak, a inhuman creature, or insane, but I don't. I don't feel that it's a normal thing, but I feel completely numb about what is happening. Mostly I enjoy the sense of power that comes from terrifying victims, and confusing the police. I always wanted to prove to myself that I was capable to taking another persons life, but only one thing kept me from carrying out this nasty deed for years when I was young, I didn't want to be locked up for the rest of my life, rotting away in some stinking jail cell. Whether I admit it or not, I do value freedom, but I have become smarter.

I wouldn't do anything really sick, like fuck a dead body, but the thought is still there. I thought about it a lot when I was little, and afterwards I would lay in bed and secretly masturbate. Maybe I am sick, maybe I‘m just willing to admit to my heinous thoughts. I'd like to believe that I'm like a lot of other people, but that's only a fantasy. I’ve even been told that I’m as normal as the girl next door, but the truth is ..... Well, no one knows the real me.

Everybody has the power in themselves to kill another. I remember sitting alone in the big barn behind our house when I was young, with a black cat in my arms, thinking I could take its head and crush it with one quick show of strength. Or I could throw it on the ground with all my might and stomp it to death. I suppose talking about killing an animal is wrong, but I can’t help thinking about the feeling of warm blood splashed across my skin.

Things weren't easy for us when I was growing up. We weren't rich, so most of the time I found myself going without, while others would be proudly showing off their trinkets, I stood alone in the background. We grew food in the garden in the summertime, and hunted down and killed any other food we might need to survive. There wasn’t much, but at least we had a roof over our head, (that leaked when it rained), and food to eat every night (even if it was the same food two nights or more in a row).

At 17, I was out on my own. I bought a car, got an apartment, and supported myself in my own way. I suppose others would feel a sense of accomplishment in having their own apartment, I didn't actually care. I never needed much space to live in, just a small kitchen, one bathroom, two bedrooms; one room to sleep in, and another to put my collection of souvenirs. I lived like this for years.

Then he came along. Sex with him was great. I couldn’t seem to get enough of what he was offering. He would hold doors open for me, enjoyed going out to a fancy restaurant, or just spending a quiet evening at home entertaining me. Eventually he moved in with me, and we then we moved to a bigger place. Things changed. I changed.

It's been said that people don't care anymore, but I tried. People just never gave me the same respect that I was giving. Were they too dumb to understand? So fucking stupid that they didn’t understand that when you treat people like dogs, eventually they become the meanest dog you’ve ever come across.

Sometimes, I don’t mind being treated like trash, but at times I want to be treated like princess.

Now, I enjoy lurking in the shadows, watching other people, madly laughing to myself, making people wonder what I’m going to do next. I get off on the pure joy of telling someone something so bizarre that it fucks with their mind.

I love being around certain people. But what I love more, is when the people like being with me. I was a social recluse for quite some time, now I can never get enough of people. Maybe this is what drove me to do what I did. Maybe not. Society is warped, I see it all the time, but I can't blame society for all my actions or re-actions.

When I'm tired, I can be very disrespectful. "Fuck off," is mild for me. Don't get me going, because once I start, I'm not going to stop until something really bad happens.

They never understand my moods. MOODS. What a strong word, more powerful than most. Perhaps it's the fact that I have different personalities at times, so there is always a different reason for what I do. Hell, I'm still trying to figure that one out myself.

I hate it when he yells and threatens my life, telling me I worthless and good for nothing. I don’t know how many times I’ve told him to leave, but he doesn’t want to leave. He wants to stand there like a fool and argue. I face reality and realize I can find another person just like him. He just makes me so crazy that all I can think about is killing him, and burying his body in a deep hole in the backyard.

Sometimes I get in this weird mood where all I want to do is listen to sad, dreary and depressing songs. Not happy songs. He hates this, and only wants to listen to his favorite type of music, calling my music nothing but crap, and giving me this look of hatred when he turns mine off and turns his on.

You know the letter 'y' in the word 'happy' makes the word look happy. Happ. That looks better. Like someone was trying to say 'happy' and their throat was slit in the process.

I could easily break someone’s bones, because the sound of the snapping bones drive me over the edge and sends me into a frenzy of inflicting pain. I want to make them curl up in the corner, and beg for their life.

I could easily cut a person. Blood doesn't bother me like it does some people. I've sat for hours, putting scars on my legs, arms, and stomach with one of the many blades that I own. I suppose that I'm rambling again, but I'll be strong and not apologize for it, because then I'd be weak.

He yelled at me, and read me like a book. He saw right through my moods. Saw the inner me. I don’t like that. I don’t want people to know me like that. We’ve been together to long.

What is the problem? You really want to know? I just wanted him to shut up, and stop telling me what I did wrong, over and over again until I want to throw up. I‘m not a dumb ass, I know I fucked up.

Then later, when I’m still mad, I didn’t want him to make believe everything is okay, and then tie me down to the bed and fuck me with all his strength...well maybe that was okay. I just wanted a word or two about how ‘the house looks nice’, or ‘dinner was good’, ‘your hair looks nice’, ‘don’t worry, I’ll take care of things’, that’s what I want him to say at least once.

The gun barely made a sound when it went off. I had put on the latex gloves, and wrapped a pillow fully around the gun before I placed it against his left temple. I was expecting a much louder noise, and at first I worried that it didn‘t really go off, and he would wake up shouting at me to leave him the fuck alone. But then I saw the blood beginning to pour from his mouth and quickly soaking into the sheets. I knew he was dead.

The blood meant something. It meant it was over. I didn’t have to deal with the way he treated me, ever again. I could move on and find someone new, someone better, someone I wouldn’t want to kill.

It feels good to scream, loudly. I felt like a God, standing in my big house waving the gun around in the air. Maybe I went back to some primal instincts of kill or be killed. I took the first step. There are no tears. I feel nothing.

So, now I sit here writing this, and I’m beginning to realize what I’ve done to him. He was my life for the past 20 years, and I've just altered that way of life forever. His death will mean my freedom again if anyone finds his body. But he has no family, no close friends, he won‘t be missed for a very long time. It will be time enough for me to move on, to begin again what I started so many years ago. I can’t let anybody find out. It has brought back all the old memories of when I killed years ago. Once again I am free to go out and freely kill and fuck at will. Some people might not understand this, but it is a part of me.

After I buried his body in a deep hole in the backyard, I took a long hot shower, blow-dried and straightened my hair, and now I'm deciding how to finish this story.

If a murderer moved next door, would you know it just by looking at them? Could you tell from your interactions with a person, that they were capable of committing unspeakable acts against other human beings? Could someone you love and have regular contact with, be a serial killer without you suspecting a thing?

The room he was in, now smells different. It's not the usual smell of his body odor, or his cologne that I bought for him last year at Christmas. It smells strange, and I feel like I don’t belong here any more. I cut up the mattress and buried most of it with him, but the smell of dead blood lingers, like dust in the air after a storm.

A gallon of bleach and a bottle of pine-sol should do the trick. I like to be clean, I hate it when things are dirty. Everything has to have its own proper place, and it is a must that things smell nice. Smell is very important to a woman. But they wouldn't listen! I'd like to take their words and shove them down their throats.

I figure people kill themselves because they feel they have nothing to live for. Nothing. Their life was wasted early, and that affects them later. So, they sit in one place, and look at all the dirt and filth around them, never finding happiness until the day they die. Nobody cares for them, and they don’t care for anybody. That's the reason. Maybe. I know how they feel now. I know, I understand.

My life is wasted, but his death fixed that.

I kissed him lightly on the forehead before I dumped his body in the hole. It sent goose-bumps through me, and made me wonder if I had done the wrong thing. Was it time to begin my plan? It felt like the first time all over again. The adrenaline rush like I got from my first kill was back. I had quit so many years ago because I was no longer getting the thrill that I had received the first time I took a life.

Society is going to hate me as much as I hate them. But I’m going to do it anyway, and not anybody is going to know the truth. Even if there was somebody who KNEW how I was feeling, what I'm thinking, and what I did, I would still deny it. It's like a disease, and it's not stoppable. Afterwards, I will feel bad, but right now, I don't care anymore. I feel alive, like Dr Frankenstein’s monster.

Who gives a fuck anyway? I should die. I am a sinner, and no one can save me now. What I’ve done is sick, disgusting, immoral, and I should die for my crimes. If somebody else had done the same thing, I would not hesitate to kill them. But, I am me, and so I am above the laws? No, I should die, and die I will by the hands of another...someday. That almost sounds poetic. I always wanted to be a poet, or a writer, but I don’t have the talent. I could have, but people are always telling me how much better they are than me, and how I'll never be anybody. People with more talent, more ideas, more feelings...normal people. People I don’t like. People that need to die.

This next weekend might be a good time to start this planned thought. Planning is important part... I don't want to make a mistake. Maybe I'll wait until my court date and explode in a violent frenzy, and not stop until I take my last breath.

If there is a hell, then surely I'll be there,

laying in my bed of hot coals, staring aimlessly at the ceiling,

unable to sleep.

It's the Fucking Weekend!

My court date for ‘failure to yield’ was Thursday in Glenpool. I had to reschedule because I feel like I’m in this (once again) fucked up mood, where I tend to be very ‘unpredictable’ as a cop once said about my re-actions to certain stressful situations. It’s true... When I’m feeling like this, I don’t always think very clearly, and quite often make major errors in my judgment. You know... Like taking a weapon with me to court (just to feel safe), making a loud outburst at the Judge or some other idiot, showing up extremely drunk, or just doing something people consider insane while in the courtroom.

The real problem with this is now I’m obsessing about what insane thoughts my mind might think about or even act on, so this raises my stress level to the point where I feel the need to do something to escape the feeling. It feels like I’m running in circles, just making myself dizzy. Maybe I’ll just cut myself real good before I go to court and each time I start thinking insane, psycho thoughts, I’ll just poke the wound. That should keep me focused.

In the end the goal is to be able to go home.

So, I rescheduled my court until August 6, which should give me a little time to get past these unwanted feelings and thoughts. I don’t know why I’m obsessing over this so much. I did the same thing with my Sand Springs court, and everything went fine. I showed them my current prescription bottle for the Phentermine and they dropped the charge. Still I had to pay the $25 dollar court cost. The best part was, I didn’t run into anybody (officer) that I might have a little problem with. Hopefully, that will be the same thing that happens at Glenpool court.

To any officer that might be reading this... If I know something about your personal life, I have no plans of posting about it on this site. Unless you break the law and get arrested... then everything I find out about you, I will post on my other site... WhatHappenedtoProtectandServe.blogspot.com. But anything to do with your home life, what you do in your off time, I could call less about. Explore your deepest fantasies, your wildest thoughts, or run amok...just don’t get caught in anything illegal.

Time to drink!

Happy 4th of July

Lifeless Breeze

Today has been dull. I did a little cleaning around the house, then cleaned out the pool, took a long swim, and then laid around doing nothing else.

I keep thinking of a thousand things to say when I’m in the shower, or in the pool cooling off, but then I get on the computer and my mind goes blank. I guess that’s what happens when you quit smoking weed. I stop again, only because I can’t afford any, so I might do a little drinking this weekend.

Thursday around noon, I’m going to Keystone Lake with a few friends and family. I don’t really need to get out in the sun any more, because I got a little sun brunt today, but it should still be fun anyway. Just got to wear some sun screen on my white ass...hehe. Lol.

I’ve been having crazy thoughts running all around in my little circles, trying to find a place called home. Don’t know if those kind of thoughts will ever cease. I went out driving the other night, around and around, until even I got bored. I’ve just got to find a new way to relax my mind.

That tingling on your cheek;
The itch on your scalp;
The goose bumps on your body;
The cold breeze around you;

Feel the tingle;
Scratch the itch;
Touch your skin;
Inhale the fresh air.

Ways to Annoy People ( and get even ).

I’m thinking of every possible method of harassing, and annoying someone to the point of insanity.


Put Vaseline on their car door handles.
Write their name and phone number on a public bathroom wall.
When you are talking to them, stare back and forth at their eyebrows.
Sign up their e-mail address on spam websites.
Steal their pets and wrap them up in duct tape.
Sign them up with a music or video club, picking out the types you know they don’t like.
Send an anonymous love letter to their house, telling them you will by stopping by at midnight, but never show up.
Unscrew the light bulbs in their house just enough so they won’t work.
Place syringes around them or in their cars, and then car the cops.
If their pets really annoy you, kill them, then run them over and toss them by the side of road so they look like road kill.
When they are gone use their water to water your lawn.
Leave carrots on their doorstep at night.
Clog up their toilet.
Mumble when you speak to them.
Constantly remind them of bad times.
When doing something illegal, use their name.
Drop Alka-Seltzer into their fish tank.
Plant marijuana by the side of their house.
Go to a party, but give them the wrong directions.
Use lamp oil to kill their lawn in spots.
Tap needle size hole into a dozen eggs and sit them in the sun for a week...egg their house or put them under the seat in their car.
Place ad on Craigslist, selling their car for only $100 dollars.
Send out announcements to their family, saying they are having a wild sex party.
Turn on their oven when they aren’t looking.
Put Saran Wrap over their toilet seat.
Turn their car stereo up all the way before they go somewhere.
Follow them around smiling a lot.
Spread nasty rumors about them.
Make a fake pipe bomb and leave it on the street in front of their house.
Use a ice-pick and punch holes into their car tire.
Ask to use their phone, call 911 and put the phone down, then leave.
If you have cock roaches, catch some of them and release them at their house.
Put a condom fill with Mayo, in their mailbox.
Make several indoor sale signs with their address and place them around town, telling people just to come right in.
Put big chunks of broken glass under their car wheels.
Use their trashcan for all your garbage.
Break into their house while their gone and leave their refrigerator open.
Buy a piece of fish, leave in sun to two days, then put it in their car.
Get their credit card number and charge all you can to it in one day.
Put crayons on the dashboard of their car.
Put a small amount of soap in the end of their toothpaste.

Let’s Cut Our Wrist and Then Burn Down Something.

I’m really fucking high right now, so if this comes off sounding crazier than usual, (or better than usual...hehe) you’ll understand why, but I had to get high. I haven’t been high for a long time now, mostly because I just can’t afford to buy any. It really hasn’t bothered me much not smoking, until the past week or so. I’ve been feeling jittery, nervous, agitated, or high-strung, as my last probation officer put it, from the moment I get up until the moment I force myself to lay down for a few hours of sleep.

I’ve had this feeling off and on over the years. When I was a teen and it would happen, I would often find myself locked up either in jail or in a nut house somewhere. That was one of the reasons I began smoking weed... To help calm me down and relax me from the agitated state that my mind often goes to for no reason. Fuck both of those places! Being locked up when I’m in this state of mind is usually never any good... I’m probably going to cut myself with the first sharp object I find or get into some altercation with those who have me incarcerated.

I’ve been trying everything short of cutting myself, or fucking with law enforcement, to bring myself out of this unsettling mood, and nothing seems to be working. So, when a friend from Tulsa called and asked me to stop by, I didn’t hesitate. I figure it’s better to be high than to commit a crime, injury myself, or do something else stupid.

I was met at the door with a 6-point beer and a hefty blunt, which I lit before I made it back to his bedroom. We sat on his bed, watching the news and discussing the latest information about Michael Jackson dieing. Half-way through the blunt, I began talking about some of my stress from the past week, and before I knew it, my stress was greatly diminished. Shit that I had been stressing over, suddenly didn’t feel like that big of deal any longer.

I FORGOT all my problems.. hehe.

A couple hours later, in possession of a limited amount of marijuana, (in case the stress returns), I cautiously made my way through Borg territory, and safely through the front door to my nicely chilled home. After relaxing for a little while, I managed to get some laundry done, and the house straightened to acceptable standards. Next, I called my little friend, and of course she told me to come right over.

The effects of the blunt still lightly lingered, so when we smoked a bowl, my high kicked right back in to a nice and relaxed state. If only this shit was legal there would probably be a lot less killing in this world. I mean, think about it... For me... If I’m high, I’m engrossed in other thoughts, I’m not angry or thinking about smashing in someone’s face.


If you don’t light up the darkness, you’ll always being living in the shadows.

Once Again, Hell is my Home

Blame it on the heat, or my fucked up mind, but if I would have had my gun today, right now outside there would be several cars with their lights on. I feel like I’m losing my mind. I can’t stand being around certain people, without feeling the need to hurt them. I’ve gone on so many walks trying to gain a different perspective, which has helped some, anyway no one is dead yet. But now I’m having a lot of pain in my knees again, so long walks to relieve the stress will have to put on hold for a little while. For now, I guess it’s back to sitting on my ass, writing again and gaining back all the weight I’ve lost. FUCK!

I guess I will forever be the bad guy (girl).

Once again, hell is my home.

I am a poet of the body and soul;
Just trying to make my mind whole.

I got lost on the journey to find myself;
Like a forgotten book on a shelf.

The pleasures of heaven I write for temptation;
And the pains of hell are my private communication.

Vulgar and rude are prevalent to my writing;
This is why MsPsycho is so enticing.

A tempting snack specifically designed,
To help the mind leisurely unwind.

Push it hard, and run it deep;
Are wonderful words that help us sleep.

But don’t get to close to me,
Because all you’ll ever feel is misery.

There’s always a creature lurking in the distance,
Trying to end my miserable existence.

Let me feel the heat of your breath on my skin;
So I can feel alive once again.

Swirl your tongue around through my mouth,
Rinse it around and spit it out.

Cease my breathing and close my eyes,
So that I might once again unfurl my wings and learn to fly.



Just don’t let me get me;
For sometimes I just can’t see.

Life is a rollercoaster ride.... So ride that son-of-bitch until you puke!!
Go ahead... Piss me off... Blood looks stunning on white carpet!
Let’s cut our wrist and then burn down something.
Dreams come true, but so do nightmares.

Stalking Fun on My Other Blog... hehe

For those who follow my other blog ... http://mspsycho.wordpress.com/ I have posted a new story titled Stalking Can Be Fun. Hope everyone enjoys!!!
XXX ... Warning Adult Stories... XXX


This story, like most all others on my site, is purely a work of fiction from a writers mind that is sometimes not always stable, but she stills enjoys a good naughty story. No harm to any actual person will every occur.
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She wasn’t following you, but I was. I was watching you as you drove down the highway, turning left and then back right. I see where you’re going. Into the store for a quick drink, and maybe a little chatting with the cute girl standing in line. Then a stop at the smoke shop for a pack of cigarettes to smoke during the times when you are bored out of your mind and waiting on some criminal to break the law. After all, you’ve got to use those shinny new cuffs for something.

Are you watching me? I’m watching you. Are you afraid of me? You might want to be.

Some people will tell that preparation is the key, and they are not totally wrong, still I prefer the spur of the moment decision in picking out a random officer to stalk. Then I’ll watch him for days, learning the times when he is at home, where he goes when he leaves, writing down all the important notes in my spiral bound notebook to study later. Personally, I don’t won’t a defenseless victim… That’s why I target law enforcement… I want someone who will try to fight back.

The most important factor in successful stalking is not getting so close that your target figures out you’re following them. If they figure out you’re following them, they will bolt like a scared little rabbit, ruining in future plans of torture to your victim.

Next follow them home. Once you’ve found out where he lives, you can easily monitor when he is at home and when he is working. Making it easy to find the right time to creep into his house and maybe remove a few personal items to keep as trophies, or just to touch and smell later. Since they are in law enforcement, doing something to draw them away from their house is a easy thing to accomplish.

Just make sure you study the layout of his house while there, that way when you return it won’t be a problem navigating your way around in the dark.

It’s also a lot of fun looking through his windows later… you watch him as he stands beside his bed and removes the keys hanging from the front of his belt, along with the extra set of cuffs hanging in the back. He slowly removes the belt from around his waist that holds his weapon on the right side of his body. He then removes his badge from over his heart and sets it gently on the table near his bed along with the pen he has used that day to write law breakers citations. He removes his radio and then unbuttons the front of his shirt, exposing the bullet proof vest underneath. Carefully he removes the straps and tosses the vest onto a chair sitting in the corner. He stands there in only a black tee-shirt and his pants with the many pockets, each filled with various items needed to fulfill his duty requirements.

I observe my target and establish his routine. I may even find him online so I can learn his habits, what he likes and doesn’t like. I want to know what he knows. Eat where he eats. I want to watch him each day and night as he finishes removing the last few articles of clothing from his body, exposing his fully nude body. Is it then that he feels the most vulnerable? Should I attack him then?

It was all too easy, I thought with a wide smile across my face. He had just gotten off duty and would probably be standing next to his bed getting ready to make love to his wife. As his wife watches him removing his uniform, I was busy cutting the main phone line into the house and then unlocking the side door leading into his garage. Walking silently into the dark garage, I find the door leading into the kitchen. There was no need for a light of any sort because I had been in his house many times before and easily knew where everything was located.

Suddenly there was a flash of a light being turned on, and the sound of a man’s voice broke through the quiet night air.

“Who’s there?” his deep voice shouted from the other side of the room.

I froze for a second, and then looked up to see it was my prey standing there in nothing but his boxers. For a man in his forties, he still looked really good and was in great psychical shape.
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For the rest of the story visit: http://mspsycho.wordpress.com/

Don’t Annoy the Crazy Person

Today I hate everything and everybody. People sometimes get on my nerves so bad, that I barely believe that I haven’t gone on a violent killing spree, ending the life of all the worthless, inconsiderate, stupid individuals that care only about themselves and what they can get from others. I’m not going to name names, because I have to deal with these people everyday, but if I do ever snap they are going to be the first ones I open fire on.

Things have been moving along pleasantly enough that I haven’t felt stressed or lost out of my mind since the car accident, until today. Not having enough money to get everyday things done, is my main concern. I often think about robbing a bank or something, but then my reason for robbing the bank would be lost when I have to go on the run. At times, that is the way I think I would like my life to end... Instead of death laying beside me on the couch or in my bed, I want him to push me off and walk with me for my last few breaths as I liberate enough funds for one last celebration. That’s just a psycho thought right?

I am once again having some medical issues that has to be addressed soon. Sometime tomorrow, I have to go the ER because my fucking, stupid insurance won’t pay for urgent care, and my retarded ass doctor’s office never called me back. I’m not going to go into that shit right now, besides this blog is not suppose to be about my daily life, but about the insane thoughts that float freely inside my head. I’m working on a new story, but I haven’t been able to focus on it much since I got a headache on Tuesday, and it still hasn’t gone away, no matter what I take for the pain.

Adios

If it makes you less sad I will die by your hands. You can tell me how vile I already know that I am.

Pain Drives Me

Thoughts of suicide crossed my mind and sadly still lingers hours later. After the accident I can’t help but think if it wasn’t for me, my son would be better off. He would still have his car, I wouldn’t have to face going to court on yet another charge... Failure to yield. How many more times in my life must I be punished?

Most people who have suicidal tendencies, usually always have a suicide plan. A way out when all else fails. The finally option. I’ve had a plan since the first day I began thinking about taking my life at the young age of 12. Over the years, the plan has changed and become more sophisticated and thought out down to the final details of what should be done with my body. I don’t think I want to be buried the traditional way of a body being placed in a casket, instead I want to be cremated. I look at it this way, I don’t want others to ever have to bear the weight that I have carried throughout my life.

Sometimes it feels like each years that passes, my life only gets worse, and I can’t imagine living like this for 40 more years. I think about jumping in front of a semi-truck, swimming down to the bottom of the deepest water until there is no possible way to make it back to the top alive, taking too many pills, cutting a little too deep, etc. And as the finally resort, letting law enforcement do what I am a failure at doing, ending my years of misery.

But then suddenly out the blue things change, and you want to live. You have all these wonderful plans on how things are going to work out one day. All I have to do is distract myself long enough to climb out of the fucking mud. It’s not easy when the mud is clinging to every pore in my body, and there just doesn’t seem to be enough water in the world to wash it all away. Still, I keep trying, wishing there was an alternative to committing suicide, but at times I just can’t see one. I just have these wavering, mixed feelings about death, that I sometimes have a hard time understanding.

My court is tomorrow in Sand Springs, so I probably won’t be sleeping much tonight. I just hope everything rides along without any glitches...lol.

_______________________

Please, Please.... if you are having serious thoughts of suicide and need help, contact a friend, email me (fukitsacoldworld@yahoo.com), take a walk, or call one of the numbers below, before you do anything. I've lived with suicide thoughts for over 30 years, and so can you. You don't have to die. There are alternatives, other distractions, that will keep you from making a decision that you can't reverse.

Suicide hotlines to call for help:
If you or someone you care about is suicidal, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255) or the National Hopeline Network at 1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433).
These toll-free crisis hotlines offer 24-hour suicide prevention and support. Your call is free and confidential.

Totaled My Son's First Car

When I was a teen living out on my own, I would occasionally drive after I had been drinking or doing drugs, and throughout the years, off and on, I would drive after I had a become legally impaired. But never once did I ever have an accident, not even a close call. I wish to believe no matter what, I’m a safe driver, even though my driving record doesn’t reflect that. Today was totally different... Or maybe more unexpected. I wasn’t drinking, doing drugs, smoking marijuana, or under the influence of anything, I was just momentarily distracted.

I was coming home from my oldest son graduation, proud that my son was able to accomplish what many of my friends and family haven’t been able to do. We were talking about what we were going to do for the rest of the evening after we got home, and some future plans. We were within a couple miles from the house, heading down highway 75, when I looked in the rearview mirror at someone behind me. When I looked back in front, the traffic had come to a complete stop. I hit my brakes and quickly looked to the other lane to see if I could get over, but there was a car in that lane, so I had no other choice but to hit the brakes harder and hope I would stop in time. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stop in time.

It was like a bad dream. The airbags deployed, hitting me hard in the face, chest, and arms. I remember trying to stand, but I felt too much pain in my knees and the rest of my body, so I just sat there until help arrived. For some reason, there are parts of what happened that I have apparently blocked out, because I didn’t remember how I got my seatbelt off until someone told me they took it off. I also don’t recall the fire trucks and the police arriving on the scene.

The officers, ambulance personal, and everyone else who help were really nice. I probably should have went to the hospital and got checked out, but it’s my sons graduation, so I didn’t want to spend hours at the ER. Besides, I think I’m just going to be really sore for a few days. More parts of my body are starting to hurt as time passes. The bruises look really bad and I hurt across most of my body, but the thing that hurts the most is knowing that I destroyed my son’s first car. I’m not sure If I’ll ever forgive myself for that. I was really thankful that everyone else in the car with me was okay, and the young guys that I hit were fine.

It’s almost 2 am, so I better try to lay down and get a little sleep. I have a feeling tomorrow I’m going to feel a lot worse.

Tonight, My Nightmares Feel Real

I’ve had two dreams about going to court in Sand Springs. In the dream, I’m at the courthouse and just as I walk inside I hear the voice of the officer I talked to a few years ago from a pay phone, but I never see his face, I only hear his voice and the voice of other officers suddenly talking. I feel extreme panic and feel the need to escape so I turn to walk outside. When I step outside I meet face to face with badge bunnies husband and he just stares into my face. At that point, I realize I’m dreaming and force myself to wake up. I think I see his face because he is the only one that I have actually met, and I recently saw him while I was in Sand Springs.

The dream and appearing in court are both equally stressing me. I keep thinking about what the officer posted online at Coplouge a few years ago after I talked with him that day...

Quote: If you could spend a day with a board member who would it be?

I'd like a day with Thief...oh yes just one day...we'd work out some things.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~>:view19: Me taking care of Thief. Here thiefy, thiefy, thiefy!!

Guess I really pissed him off. This happened several years ago, so maybe he isn’t even around any more, and if he is, hopefully he has let it go. (yes, I fucking access your board Dunny...get over it... I was just looking for that quote from Baker.)

My court date was for tonight, so I’m glad I pushed it off until after my son graduates, just in case ‘Baker’ decides he still wants to ‘work out some things’. Regardless, I’m going to prepare myself... Put my plan in motion... Take a pill or two... And stay as calm as I possibly can. Maybe I’ll walk out without even seeing any of them.

Feeling Normal

Click to Enlarge...
Flowers at Chandler Park


Right now, I feel .... stable. I'm not experiencing any highs or lows, no intrusive thoughts or weird reactions, just normal. Which is good, so I hope it will last.

I'm having a garage sell tomorrow, which is keeping me really busy. I have to make enough money to pay my gas bill, if not I'm going to have to do some 'fucked up shit' to make sure it doesn't get shut off. Don't really want to go there.

Think I'm going to take a break from being online for a few days and instead work on some writing I've been putting off for a long time. When my mood changes I'm sure I'll be back. It's just right now too many things are going on in my life. My oldest boy will be graduating from high school next Saturday, and my younger one will be out for the summer in just a couple weeks.

When my court date in Sand Springs gets closer, I'm sure I'll be stressing out and will want to write, so until then HOPE EVERYONE HAS A SEXY ASS DAY!!!

Change of Plans

Yesterday sucked and today wasn't much better. I have no energy, all I want to do is eat, drink alcohol, and not expel any form of movement. I don't want to blink, exist, or even think about any of these things. I've been trying to force myself to write, but even that seems to take every ounce of my will.

Thursday, before this mood hit me, I called Sand Springs court and had my court date changed. The 12th of May was a bad timing since my oldest son is graduating on the 15th. I can't believe how fast time has passed. I was just glad it wasn't a problem putting the date off. The lady told me the 26th of May at first, which would have been great, except that's when I changed my Friday's doctor appointment to (I canceled it because... I just didn't want to go).

Shit I hope this mood doesn't last long. If not, I'm going to have to start smoking weed again, or invest in a fucking liquor store. The only good part is I finally slept... 9 hours. Well, I'm bored. Everything seems to bore me. Guess I'll go lay back down.

Stalking Can be Fun?

I got stopped again yesterday. This time for ....hhmmm...following an officer...lol. Maybe I just freaked him out... hehe. I wasn’t trying too. I was just trying to kill a little time while I was waiting to pick up my son from school at 2:00. It was raining and I really didn’t want to go back to the house, get out the car, get wet, go in the house for 15 minutes, and then go back out in the rain to get in the car again, just so I could pick him up. Instead I decided to just drive around in my circles.

Unfortunately, that made me repeatedly run into the same officer over and over again. I really didn’t think he would stop me for following him anyway, because....well... It was raining out, and what officer would want to get out in the rain for something as silly as a person following them? Maybe I scare them a little. ...lol. Anyway, it gave me an idea for a new short story about stalking, so I’ll post it sometime this weekend.

And honestly, do you really think someone would admit to following an officer, if that officer stopped you and asked you outright, ‘were you following me?’ If I would have said, ‘yeah, I was bored and just following you around to see if you’re doing anything interesting’, I would probably still be trying to get out of jail for stalking.

SERIOUSLY!!!

I'm not stalking you.

I'm just sneaking a peek to make sure you're ok.

OH!!! By the way...Nice Pajamas....hehe

Can't Sleep...Clowns will Eat Me

Depression: Anger without Enthusiasm

When You See My Face I Hope it Gives You Hell!!

Right now, I’m drinking. Not only am I drinking, but I’m a little fucking drunk. Hey! It’s legal! I would drink some more, but I’m out, and I’m damn straight not rolling to the store for more. Plus, all I can get at this time of the day is the 3-point piss water. Nasty shit...bout time to make a trip to Kansas!!

Also, Officer Asshole would love to bust me for that one, and tonight would not be a good night for that type of encounter. I’m in this fucked up mood where I feel like I want to slice the heads off every stupid motherfucker I meet. I could cuss someone out in about 3 seconds flat, which would probably led to a tasering now days. I'm just in a pissed off at the world kind of mood.

Maybe it’s because I’m not sleeping much. I only got about 4 hours last night. I take forever to fall asleep, then I wake up early and can’t seem to close my eyes again. That’s mostly why I’m drinking tonight. I’m hoping the alcohol will help me sleep a little longer. If I do get up early, I’m just going to get out and maybe go for a long walk at some park...maybe Chandler again.

I’ve slowed up on taking the Phentermine, thinking maybe that’s what is making my insomnia worse, but I don’t think that’s the problem. I’ve gone through this in the past when I wasn’t taken the phentermine, still I have to try something to stop the increasingly louder ringing in the my ears that I experience when I haven‘t slept much.

I also did a little research and found out I’m experiencing what is called a Mixed state. It’s when symptoms of mania and depression meet and collide, which can be very dangerous the way I understand it all. I guess it is, because when I’m just depressed I don’t have the desire or energy to force myself out of bed long enough to bathe, let only have the energy to kill myself. All I do is eat and eat everything sweet, until I fall asleep. With the mania, I’m too busy doing a thousand things to sit still long enough to think about dieing. Roll the two together, and I could be in serious trouble. The mania gives me just enough energy to carry out the plans of my depressed mind.

I’ve been thinking about getting on some sort of medication again, but that means calling my OHCA insurance and finding out what doctor I can see; fight with them on the phone for 30 minutes or more, until I‘m ready to just cut my wrist instead. Then I have to call the doctors office, and hope like hell they are not crazy than me; make the appointment; for probably a month or more from now; (which by then I might feel different or I’ve already killed myself); force myself out of the house to go; sit in the waiting room for an hour at least; sit maybe 5 minutes before some motherfucker thinks he immediately knows my diagnosis; get on some fucked up pill that might make it all worse. It’s all guess work.

Okay, this shit is making me lose my buzz. Fuck all you motherfuckers who don’t like the way I am. Want to do something about it...then you call my insurance company, you set up the appointment, you come pick me up and make sure I arrive at every appointment, then you bring me back home and let me be. Yeah, that’s what I thought. You give a fuck as much as I do. I’ve got to get off here before I start letting my true feelings show.

Pain is delicious
Reminds me that I’m real.
Pain organizes me
Defines the boundaries of where I end
And the world begins.

Driving in Circles

I've got to get out tomorrow and escape for at least a little while.

When you label somebody, you stop seeing them as a real person. And suddenly it’s okay to do all kinds of terrible things to them. Soon they stop seeing themselves as a real person and they just turn into that label. So what if I’m crazy, after 20 years of people treating me like I’m crazy, can you blame me?

I think I might have to do some drinking tomorrow night.

I Want Numb

I stand along the bank of the Arkansas River,
Staring at the rolling waves as the cold,
sharp water slaps against the rocks and splashes on my shoes.
The clouds have grown thick and gray,
obscuring any hint of a bright warm sunny day.
Tiny demons ooze from my pores,
And I wince at the slightest whisper of wind against my skin.

I step into the freezing icy cold water.
Within minutes, my feet become completely numb,
until I can no longer feel my toes.
After 5 minutes of staring, debating...
I won’t notice the stinging cold any more.
It was as if my feet will completely creased to exist.

I want my mind to feel that way.

I step further into the piercing cold water
Until it completely covers my knees,
And I don’t stop until it comes half-way to the middle of my thighs.
The pain from the cold was intense,
But still not enough to awaken my mind.

I force myself to stand there until I feel nothing at all.
Suddenly the sky betrays me,
and begins sending tiny droplets of rain across my all ready damp cheeks.
I let the rain lash my face,
which stings like a whip across an open wound.

The water reaches my neck,
And I think, I don’t necessarily want to die,
I just want to escape my inner turmoil,
But I see no other way to leave the confusion behind.
I lose all sensation in my lower body,
And the tips of my fingers turn icy blue white.

I look to the sky,
but I can’t catch a long enough glimpse
of a clear blue sky to believe in anything but bad weather.
Should I stay tethered and wait out the storm?
After all, I just need something to make the sky blue again.
Just give me one good reason
And no, it doesn’t have to be a good one,
Any reason whatsoever to why I should stay alive.

If not, I will take one last breath,
and then submerge my mind until it becomes totally numb.

***********************

Sometimes stories don't end happy,

It's just enough that they end,

To make way for new stories.

NO SLEEP........... again

FUCK I CAN'T SLEEP!!! I'VE SLEPT MAYBE 10 HOURS IN THE PAST 3 DAYS, AND IT DOESN'T LOOK LIKE I'LL BE SLEEPING AGAIN TONIGHT!

FUCK!!!

PROM IS OVER....YEAH!!!!