Praise the good Lord Jesus Christ and His Father in heaven for waking up this saved one today uninjured, unimpaired, safely in the bed of his friend’s apartment in the same beautiful town on the same beautiful creation of the Lord called earth ready to serve Him another blessed day NO MATTER WHAT!

Well, Friday was quite the hectic day due to my admittedly foolish decision to “borrow” my mother’s credit card without permission again to guarantee the quickest and most sure-fire method of obtaining the dose of benzedrex that I (believed I) needed to not have another tear-filled breakdown. That method, obviously, being to actually buy it from one of the few local walgreens(es?) that I’m not banned from, because they are the only chain of stores that appear to have caught on to my intentions with my frequent visits and have decided to take effective action against my operations by either confronting me with a trespass order (being banned) or moving their stock of benzedrex to an exclusively behind-the-counter purchase.

Naturally, those stores that chose the latter option rather than the former benefit me by providing a near certain source of benzedrex but also provide themselves with the benefits of ensuring net-profits from my patronage, an avoidance of shoplifting of anything in the future, my continued patronage, respect, and good word to those of my peers that I communicate with on the matter.

Taking the route of banning me might rid me of any future supposition of my future “patronage” but it definitely will not rid these stores of their problem, because I know for a fact that I’m not the only one around here with the (not very) bright idea to satiate their speed addiction by not paying a dime. Well, you’re still paying with SOMETHING but it’s not the federal reserve’s fiat “currency”. :^).

I hate having to do this but my most recent idea/probable delusion is that God is using this entire experience of mine to exercise my mind’s courage “muscle” (trusting in God, primarily) as well as its shrewdness, since so many young men my age around here would probably be so traumatized from being caught once that they would cease to ever continue embarking on such operations. On one level, I admit, they’re probably smarter than I in quitting while they’re ahead but on another level it feeds into this concept that I heard recently in the audiobook version of Dostoyvesky’s “The Gambler”, straight out of the mouth of the “grandmother” character during her winning streak at a french casino: “He who fears the wolf should not enter the forest”.

Now, that same “grandmother” character would go on to lose all of her earnings and in fact bring the family into debt because her initial max earnings of 7k-8k roubles (a whole frickin’ lot in today’s dollars) quickly became 100k roubles in debt over three days because she could not stop herself. Thus, perhaps, I am sorely trapped in a grossly self-destructive form of thinking by evoking such a quote to justify my behavior.

In fact, in that very same story, when the “grandmother” takes her seat at the roluette table for the first time with the main character and her temporary servant Alexei Ivanovich, she sees a young man who has just accumulated a massive amount of earnings and makes the sober distinction that he had best go home now rather than take his earnings as a ticket to gamble more and more money. The obvious irony behind “grandmother”‘s piece of advice here is that she proceeds to make the exact same mistake that she just decried less than an hour later with the massive earnings that she ends up winning.

I’ve never actually “gambled” in the contemporary definition of the word, in fact I’ve never even bought a single scratch-off ticket nor do I ever intend to, but viewing that story through a metaphorical sense upon my life seems to produce an unsettingly haunting omen.

On the other hand, every great man throughout history has “gambled”, not in the literal definition but in a very similar sense to my metaphorical definition of the term.

Once again, I’m more than likely just rationalizing my continued choice to indulge in self-destructive behavior and I should probably prepare myself for the Lord to allow an even lower level of destruction to calamitously strike my life. My psyche is already severely scarred by everyone around me telling me that I’m absolutely worthless and will amount to nothing, so that as well as just my life’s general lack of actual tangible success in any field beyond “barely clinging on” feeds into this (possible) delusion that God has put me through so much suffering for so long because He will shortly be ushering me onto a path towards such greatness that all the past suffering will be far more than worth it. Furthermore, the only fee the Lord expects from me for this future is just a continued faith in Him amidst everything to the best of my ability. So long as I provide that faith, the Lord will ensure that my conscious mind is placed into such positive states that are sustained over such a long period of time that my desperate heart will certainly use it to self-advance.

Sure, to the new reader, that price of “faith in Him amidst everything” may seem to be such a paultry price for such a grand reward that its delusory nature should be self-explanatory, but I’d invite you to read as many of my past entries on this blog as that reader can/is interested in reading and realize the bare fact that such a tithe, at least in my situation, is DEFINITELY nowhere near chump change.

Okay, I am depressed now and I’ve tried my best. Of course, there is so much more for me to talk about on here but I just cannot go further today.

Please pray for me as I pray for you.

Go in Christ, friends.



Praise the good Lord Jesus Christ and His heavenly Father for waking up this saved one today uninjured, unimpaired, safely in his same bed under the same roof at the same beautiful town on the same beautiful creation of the Lord called earth ready to serve Him another blessed day NO MATTER WHAT!

Further praises are heaped upon the Lord Jesus Christ by this saved one for ensuring that this saved one successfully obtained the amount of benzedrex he desired over the course of the latter portion of today, despite the numerous curses that this saved one unjustly misfired at the Lord yesterday afternoon when all six or seven of the locations this saved one tried did not yield even one benzedrex. Nay, all they yielded was the necessitation of literally eight to nine miles of walking during that day while not having access to the stimulant that would not allow such a sojourn to be so hellish.

Yesterday was the first time that I truly “cracked” since the Lord saved me in August of 2015, by which I mean that I actually renounced God and asked satan to provide me with the assistance that I so desperately desired….. which, believe it or not, wasn’t to get benzedrex (of which exactly zero had been provided for me, yesterday) but to just get home as soon as possible so that I could sleep. This purely pathologically driven renunciation of the Lord yesterday evening is something that I regret, yet it is also a bare-faced reflection of my emotional state at the moment.

Another, even barer-faced reflection of my emotional state at the moment is the fact that I did not attend the very necessary and much desired orientation to volunteer at the local IFC (inter-faith community) homeless shelter at 7:30 pm this evening. The Lord mercifully provided me with a moderate yet satisfactory amount of benzedrex by around 12:30 pm this afternoon, but by 4:30 pm I had to journey out for more to ensure that a successfully run for just one more benzedrex fulfilled the necessary prelude I’d have needed to be a reality during the one to two hours preceding that 7:30 pm orientation.

The Lord did provide extra benzedrex and alcohol for me this evening, but the benzedrex came into my possession a good forty minutes after the scheduled commencement of the aforementioned orientation. Blaming the Lord for one’s own poor decisions never tends to get anyone anywhere desirable anytime soon, but I’ve just got to say that I begged and BEGGED the good Lord to provide that ONE benzedrex for me at the fertile locations that I could reach within an hour of that orientation commencing…. because I ensured that I’d be all the way out there to be able to receive just one then get on the bus for the downtown destination on time to attend that orientation.

Even despite the absolutely HORRIBLE anxiety that I experienced during the ladder half of this afternoon on the bus, which came as a result of having to share said bus with more than literally thirty medical school students around my age and with a capacity for being unnecessarily judgmental that far exceeds my own (yup, that is definitely a fact, sorry), I still tried to get myself into an “okay” enough state to attend this orientation. I even asked all my close people to specifically pray that my needs were met within the allotted time frame.

No luck came my way within said time frame, unfortunately.

Desperate fears of me actually being allowed to amount to absolutely nothing within the next very crucial decade seem to just be supplied with even more evidence to corroborate themselves with every single day, no matter how hard I try. Yes, I actually am content with the self-conceived fact that I DO try my VERY HARDEST to supply more good to the community than I take away from it every single day. Though, once again, that could very well be categorized under the “fantasies and delusions”-tag that I tried my best to explain as well as I possibly could an entry or two ago.

There are, of course, far more details necessary to understand the events of the last couple days in my life than I’ve been willing to supply in this entry but I honestly had to force myself to begin writing this thing today anyways. As for another assignment that I had to force myself to begin working on in the first place and see through until I’ve reached a sensible conclusion, I’d like to think that I did pretty well with today’s entry.

Prayers are still going out to all of my people (which includes everyone reading this), but I desperately need more prayers for larger amounts of positivity to be flooding my life shortly as well, because I often question whether or not God ever intends to allow any such thing to happen before it’s too late for me.

The fact that I renounced the Lord yesterday via several texts with my friends and proceeded to set up a prelude for a similar barrage upon the divine tonight, after I could not find my benzedrex within the necessary timeframe for me to attend that volunteer orientation, is one that is exceedingly disturbing and a red flag for the necessity of prayers for positivity to be heaped upon my soul as soon as possible.

Ugh, what on earth am I going to do and what on earth will the Lord allow me to end up turning out as in the near future? Lord Jesus, I beg You to have mercy on me in such matters rather than allow even the slightest trickle of wrath to define this saved one’s near future.

Please pray for me. Rest assured that I’m praying for you, no matter who you are or what your intentions are.

Go in Christ, friends.




Praise the good Lord Jesus Christ for waking up this saved one today uninjured, unimpaired, safely in his same bed in the same beautiful town on the same beautiful creation of the Lord called earth ready to serve Him another blessed day NO MATTER WHAT.

Never have I been in such a desperate time in my life and never have I been in such fear, but I know that it’s all my fault. All of this has been caused by my choices of actions and not from external circumstances. I am a villain and I deserve an eternity in hell right now, I do not deserve the Lord.

During the last seven years, entertaining fantasies and delusions about me as a better or great men among men have been a major coping mechanism for me. Well, they’ve been a major coping mechanism for me my entire life. Lately I seem to have allowed myself to delve way too far back into those delusions and fantasies, ignoring reality as the falling domino line that I’ve probably caused by myself advances upon my position like a lion stalking its prey. Quick, but not quick enough as to make itself conspicuous enough to trigger a response in time to take evasive action within that very narrow window for any potential victims that weren’t looking for that lion vigilantly in the first place.

I would trade my gifts with words, I would trade my intelligence, I would trade my financially blessed upper-middle class lazy, arrogant, only-child (a man child now, I guess), I would trade my fashion sense, I’d trade my hair, my love and taste in art, any artistic talents that I might have, I’d trade whatever “special” capacities that I have which I have not yet realized but that will become highly valued in terms of uhhh “social” market value and practical utility which might put me at a higher place in the human social hierarchy of the near future, all of it I’d trade all of it just to be an honest working man earning his bread by the sweat of his brow while praising God full-heartedly for every little thing He has given that humble man.

Perhaps this is another one of those “fantasies and delusions” that I talked about in the paragraph preceding the last one, but it seems like I actually get along with more working class type people rather than the social class I was born into. Despite my many flaws that have made themselves aware to them and my proclivity for allowing those flaws to translate themselves into despicable actions in reality (which, if you’re wondering, would be mainly stealing and lying. There’s probably many more that my memory neglects to recall beyond a sexual lust that is definitely far milder than my similarly situated peers, the most grievous act that it’s ever manifested being a regular porn viewing habit and a very occasional wondering eye but as far as I can tell that’s it. Regular readers of this blog and anyone that is acquainted with me in real life know that I’m upfront and brutally honest about the fact that I’ve never even held hands with a girl, let alone kissed one or anything beyond even that. Whether that is just the result of me both being ugly and a scumbag or simply God’s reserving of me from that type of thing for a truly greater purpose to serve for Him in this world in the near future, I know not. Lately I’ve been trying my best not allow my life’s total lack of romance to further exacerbate the already category-five gale of a raging storm that’s my mind and considering the aforementioned circumstances that I’ve documented in the earlier portions of this entry, I’d rather abruptly stop talking about now.

If you’ve read the whole entry so far in it’s entirety and fail to remotely grasp the gravity of the situation then just know that I’ve employed my literary composition talents to the best of my abilities in recounting those events in as best of an eloquent, objective yet understandable fashion as my autistic sperglord 22 y/o-holdinghandsless-virgin mind can come up with, so perhaps reading this blog isn’t your best choice because this is just how I naturally flow with my writing. This is art made by the unadulterated well of emotions from my very soul, a well which must sometimes be pried open to flow even weakly but other times…. let’s just say that, my cup runneth over. Like right now.

No, I haven’t actually even tried to begin specifically recounting the actual events which have so far transpired today and I’d rather not do that for right now, but I’d like to think that I’ve somehow managed to pull off conveying the raw emotions that said events have triggered in me to the reader without even telling the reader what happened.

Perhaps I’ve actually totally failed to do that and am, as South Park so tacitly depicted the colloquial metaphor, “sniffing my own farts” so to speak by asserting that I have done that. Either way, I am not going to document said relevant recently-transpired events that played a major role in actually directly triggering my decision to compose today’s entry. Think what you will of me and my writing, you don’t have to read this. Like I said the previous one-long-run-one-sentence paragraph, this blog isn’t supposed to be some scientifically-objective journal documenting every detail about my life with sterile position and little or nothing else.

This is my art and I love it. If you read this blog’s description, I specifically state that this blog is intended for God but is publicly available for all who are led to read it. Praise God for my writing talent, whether or not it’s actually there, because perhaps He’d have left me wanting to be that honest blue collar worker life but without any skills I could fantasize about trading for it.

If it is the Lord’s will for me to pursue a reapplication into TROSA imminently, the 2-year long intensive rehab program that my parents tried to get me into about a month ago, with my FULL cooperation, but was denied entry due to the fact that gabapentin, as medicine I was prescribed and taking at the time, wasn’t allowed. Nor are most psychiatric drugs, from what I gather.

Well, of course, I missed two psychiatrist appointments in a row last month due to my own lazy stupidity and have been informed that I’ve been ejected from that clinic due to those absences. If anyone has actually been a long term reader of mine, then perhaps you can recall my… uhhh… “difficulties and conflicts of personality” with said psychiatrist because I’m about 100% certain I’ve tried expressing them in some entries from October and November of this year (of which there are relatively few). If not, let me jog your memory and get new readers, who are too impatient to go read those entries for themselves, up to speed with a brief, highly informative summary of the matter: That psychiatrist is a two-faced psycho bi-….. I mean, “young woman”.

Apologies for not going further with that, but I don’t want to even look at this entry’s word count so far and that’s definitely a sign that I’ve gone far enough for today.

Please pray for me. Thank you for reading and I’ll be praying for you, whether you like me or not. 🙂

Go in Christ, friends.

P.S Comments and likes on here are all highly appreciated, especially positive ones. Another thing regular readers know: for every compliment I get, I literally receive around 200-300 insults. People try to excuse those insults by saying that they’re “jokes”, but they’re stepping further on an already shattered heart because those same people can’t be bothered to pay me a real darn compliment every once in a while. Perhaps I don’t deserve compliments and really am the scum my parents always tell me I am. Oh well, I march on and ask for the Lord’s, not my own, will to be done. Thanks again for taking the time to read this, even if you’re some NSA or KGB spy or whatever. I appreciate it a lot and genuinely hope you get some recreational value from it.



Praise the good Lord Jesus Christ and His Father in heaven for waking up this saved one today uninjured, unimpaired, safely in his same bed, under the same roof, at the same beautiful town on the same beautiful creation of the Lord called earth ready to serve Him another blessed day NO MATTER WHAT!

Further praises are given by this saved one unto the Lord of hosts for ensuring that he got the necessary amount of benzedrex and alcohol that he needed this morning to not go into withdrawals again.

Before seasoned addicts of “heavier” drugs mock and jeer at my dread of the withdrawals from my active addictions (benzedrex, which is essentially actual otc adderall, and alcohol), my mental state has a much heavier effect upon my physical body than it does for the vast majority of people. Sure, this theory that my conscious happens to have a stronger influence over my subconscious than most people isn’t a medical fact corroborated through the publishing of multiple, or even one, articles by accredited physicians in respected academic journals pertaining to the relevant subject they’d be addressing. The only two retorts I could conjure up to that would be: almost every clinician that has seen me regularly enough to get an idea of my personality/mental make up has (“off the record”) privately corroborated that theory AND you’re reading my damn blog, so my rules go. Here’s a far more authoritative source for both those retorts than any skeptic DARING to entertain the idea that I’d be lying about such things on the very blog where I’ve devoted myself to NOT LYING AT ALL, cited in MLA format:

Boofboy, Alex “His Grand Leprechaunian Excellency”. “Every frickin’ thing, you dirty wench.” WordPress.com, Deez Nuts, wordpress.com/view/redheadedhermitboy.wordpress.com. “If there’s anything I hate is someone who questions my credit.” ― Mike Todd

Nah, no need for in text citations. Especially not for filthy peasents. Get mad.

As for any remaining loyal acolytes of the abundance of useless wisdom available by reading every single blog entry I make on here, or anyone else worth reading the rest of this, continue on content with the fact that you shall be unmolested by my words. I shall no longer detain anyone actually interested in reading this with my ruses. They are simply meant to catch persons who would not benefit the least in reading my entries here, beyond a crude jest to their similarly inclined friends about my beliefs and, perhaps, more pathological proclivities in my views on every day life. After all, I don’t want to waste their valuable time from more productive activities such as circlejerking on /r/atheism about Professor Jordan Peterson’s latest “enlightening” lecture, probably on how an empty tube of gogurt isn’t a sexual or gender identity (OH, WHAT GENIUS!), and some debate Christopher Hitchens did against a softball, more theologically inclined opponent a billion years ago. A billion years ago, before natural selection got to da Hitch. Nature can be quite the bitch.

Today, as well as the blessing stated in this entry’s second paragraph, my mother gave me an I-watch 2!!!!! Praise the good Lord for this gift, because I have cursed myself almost every single day after I foolishly decided to sell my first I-watch.

Perhaps many people do not necessarily need an I watch, by which I mean it probably wouldn’t be advantageous for many people to spend the money on such a thing they won’t be using much, but for people like me who are ALWAYS listening to some kind of music on their iphone when their out of the house, have adhd, have to change songs or artists constantly but wear tight pants every day and have to ride an often crowded city bus everywhere (during which people often are forced to sit right next to you or worse), oh man are these things a MIRACLE!

Just taking your iphone out of one’s uhh “well-fitting” long-pants pocket every once in a while is a fairly irritating inconvenience, but even a non-adhd person who listens to as much music as I do every single day will, I guarantee, end up having to take their phone out of their pockets more than “every once in a while”. At least, anyone that does not have the convenience of a purse and the social license to have one around in public. It’s very irritating.

Perhaps I mentioned this in the entry that I made a few/several months ago when I got my first I-watch but, like almost everything I ever say ever, I feel the need to repeat this fact to the reader: When the I-watch first came out, I took the “Alex Jones-esque” position and thought it was just useless trash meant only to make us more dependent on devices/machines/technology than we already are. To my recollection, Alex Jones never specifically said such a thing but I’d definitely be surprised if he actually never did, considering my embarassingly vast knowledge of what his opinions are and what his opinion would almost certainly be on such a thing. Lest our boy Mister Jones II be a blatant hypocrite that exempts such a device from the umbrella of “satanic new-world-order transhumanist enslavement devices”.

“APPLE HAS JUST RELEASED ITS LITERAL DIGITAL SHACKLES FOR ALL THE LEMMING MASSES OUT THERE WILLING TO BUY IT.” As he reads off of a sheet of computer paper with a full-color article, printed from an HD printer probably, THAT IS TOTALLY BLANK ON THE OTHER SIDE, while scooting his chair forwards to ensure that the iphone in his pocket is safely hidden under his “news” desk. All while wearing that same wretched outfit: a navy blue blazer over either a white or light-blue dress shirt with the top-two buttons unbuttoned. Probably with the same pair of pants too, which I can’t identify because I’ve almost never seen him in full profile with his “show outfit” on and, with the frequency that I’ve been viewing his show the past year and a half, that definitely means that barely anyone else has either. I sure hope he’s at least wearing some “straight” fitting navy blue trousers, with his dress shirt tucked in over a nice belt and dark-colored, leather or faux-leather laced dress shoes under there.

Oh boy, I should’ve caught myself before I got too entrenched in the topic of political figures and their fashion sense. Gosh, could you imagine if I could ever make money from like giving fashion tips to people, or even DESIGNING clothes? People don’t even give me compliments directly to my face and I KNOW that I LOOK good, clothes-wise at least.

Okay, that’s about all the energy I’ve got for today’s entry. Thank you for all the prayers, please continue to pray them for me and rest assured that I’ll be praying for you, whether you like me or not. Hope today’s entry’s cheery mood was refreshing and I hope that mood remains for me throughout the remainder of today. Praise the Lord for it, either way.

1174 words.

Go in Christ, friends.








Praise the good Lord Jesus Christ and His Father in heaven for waking up this saved one today uninjured, unimpaired, safely in his same bed under the same roof at the same beautiful town on the same beautiful creation of the Lord called earth ready to serve Him another blessed day NO MATTER WHAT!

Let me be brutally honest, here: I have no clue if God is going to let me continue to dig my own grave or if He’ll finally provide the abundance of positive, motivating energy that I so desperately have needed for the past seven years to at least achieve SOMETHING in my life. I have no clue if I’ll finally be able to experience ONE major life success SOON, before my broken/severely wounded heart leads me to carelessly stumble into the precincts of destruction. Material death following shortly afterwards, if not instantly. Never will I consciously commit suicide but, much like leprosy tends to result in accidents which cause severe, disfiguring injuries shortly after the virus has shut down the component of the nervous system responsible for the pain reaction, I don’t think it’s a stretch of the imagination to insinuate that one with a weak or no will to live will shortly meet their death at the hands of a fatal accident caused by (what appears to be) their carelessness for their own lives.

That last ridiculous example of a run-on sentence probably made absolutely no sense at all but, of course, I’m too depressed to attempt to re-elucidate the point in a more reasonably brief and understandable form.

I was telling one of my friends today that I am becoming more and more aware of the fact that I may know a good bit more just stuff than the majority of people, at least those in my age range, do but I’d much rather trade all that as well as my other “intellectual” or “academically inclined” talents (as few as I have, if any) just to be able to get and keep a job for longer than… eh, say, a year. Any job, whether it’s president of Eurasia or a burger flipper at mcdonalds. Being a full or even part time student also fits underneath the umbrella of the term “job”, in this context.

The longest I’ve ever kept a job was a single month, if that, and I’ve only ever had two jobs: a stop/slow guy at construction sites and a sales associate at kohl’s. both of which I got fired from in about a month. I’ve only ever been able to maintain one easy class per semester at community college all the way through, one being Econ-151 (“survey..’ or, more accurately, an intro to economics) and the other being English-111. I barely managed to finish English-111 with an 80% because I basically dropped the ball during the last three weeks, the most crucial period of the course. After English, I tried taking just World History (a subject that I’ve always been good at) last winter semester and I couldn’t even handle just that one class.


I’m going to abruptly end this now because I really was never in the mood to write this to begin with but I forced myself to anyway. Maybe it was God’s will, but probably not because it doesn’t seem I ever do anything right in His eyes.

Please pray for me. I know that I’m selfish when it comes to this and oh, yeah “woe is me”, but I really do need as much spiritual support as I can get. I try my best to pray for others every single day before myself, among which everyone reading this is included.

Go in Christ, friends.


Praise the good Lord Jesus Christ and His Father in heaven for waking up this saved one today uninjured, unimpaired, safely in his same bed, under the same roof, at the same beautiful town on the same beautiful creation of the Lord called earth ready to serve Him another blessed day NO MATTER WHAT!

Well, I’m extremely ambivalent about telling my true feelings on the events of the preceding couple days, among which yuletide or “Christmas” was celebrated, because part of me is telling me to just flat out lie in hopes that the Lord will reward my gratitude in the midst of this continued famine but the part that prevails will be the side of me that usually seems to prevail in these situations: that burning desire to unleash the clawing pit of stygian abominations which are THE TRUTH (as I most plainly see it, of course).

Apologies for the ridiculously over-dramatic metaphors so early in the entry, but uhh if the regular reader couldn’t tell by my infrequent post history during the last six months, I’m not too keen on producing entries that are on par with my expectations so frequently anymore and have to keep myself entertained while I’m this out…..


Yup, that’s all in caps and I’m keeping it that way cause I’m basically screaming all of that out loud in my mind right now as I type it.

My mother decided to read the 23rd’s WordPress entry, almost certainly only because I truthfully told her that I’d like for the emotional abuse to stop and be left alone in my room in peace so that I could finish that wordpress entry.

She’d like for me to tell everyone here that I stole $35 from her yesterday by taking her credit card and using it to buy one benzedrex, one pack of triple-cs and one bottle of wine from our local Walgreens. Yup, I sure am quite the villain. Oh, and she’d also probably like for everyone to know about how I’ve somehow ruined my parents’ credit because two months ago when I stole then used those checks (event fully chronicled on the revenant entries on this blog) because my mom cancelled her checking account as soon as the first charge came through, causing the other charges to bounce and I guess show up on their credit as bad checks.

It was really great to hear my dad’s mocking sarcastic response to my innocent inquiry this evening as to whether or not there was anything under the tree for me yesterday, since I didn’t look:

“Where you a good boy this year, Alex?”

Nope. I guess not.

Now give me my fucking coal. Give me my fucking coal to throw into these furnaces of willpower to fuel my long-overdue rise as an independent adult.

Forgive the obscenities but I’m trying to properly convey my passions behind that statement.


That probably won’t even happen, though. God I’ve tried my best but it doesn’t seem to be enough. I’ve been as patient as I can and now it seems like You’re not going to be coming through for me before I completely dig my own grave then lie in it.

Please pray for me.

Go in Christ, friends.


Praise the good Lord Jesus Christ and His Father in heaven for waking up this saved one today uninjured, unimpaired, safely in that peaceful apartment (which I will actually be missing dearly, as I’ll explain later) in the same beautiful town on the same beautiful creation of the Lord called earth ready to serve Him another blessed day NO MATTER WHAT!

This week was not exactly as tragedy and drama filled as basically every week leading up it has been, so I praise the good Lord Jesus for that. Accompanying those praises are the hopes that He’ll continue to bless me despite my many character flaws and that He will shortly begin to usher me into my unique role which He has promised for me in the world. Oh, how I would shout for joy and yell “hallejuah!” if I could be finally certain that a positive end is coming to this personal hell on earth I’ve endured for seven and a half years.

If I could just GLIMPSE that long sought after yet constantly elusive “light at the end of the tunnel”. During the last couple years, I’ve been tricked into false hope many, many times by a dim light I could see in the distance but it just turns out to be the glow of this cavern’s phosphorescent crystals. Oh boy, now I feel like making this into a descent-inspired spelunking allegory, but I’m going to stop myself before I let it go any further cause that’s not the point of this entry.

After all those years of getting excited over something that just turns out to be another glowing rock has probably done a number on the enthusiasm and gratitude that I am capable of conjuring up from my own spirit, but praise the Lord that it is His spirit that dwells in place of my pathetic excuse of a human spirit! Because if it truly weren’t for the Holy Ghost’s peace, patience, foresight, compassion, I’d have definitely cracked A LONG time ago under it all.

Just now, my mother decides to barge into my room at their house for the second time to shriek obscenities and demean my character once again. If this were 8 months ago, may I’d be crying right now but instead I feel this cold callousness in my heart that has built up over so many years of this exact thing no matter what and bore her latest verbal barrage with a remarkably monastic (at least, for me) countenance. According to her and my father, I’m literally the most worthless person on earth. Seems like they think I’m worse than Hitler, Stalin, Pol-Pot, Mao all put together. I’m not exaggerating at all though, and the Lord knows it.

Yes, I’m well aware of my part in the events of the last seven years and yes, I’m well aware that my parents gave me all they could, but the point still stands that they would probably rather jump off a bridge than face EVEN THE DISTINCT POSSIBILITY that MAYBE this is not entirely my fault, that MAYBE they made crucial mistakes in their parenting philosophy, MAYBE their and this upper middle class white society’s expectations of me were too high of a bar for me to reach on their schedule, and MAYBE instead of crying about a D in writing I got on my 5th grade report card, they could’ve offered me positive support when I most desperately needed it five years later as my mental issues egged on by severe peer abuse destroyed my once promising high school career.

But, that’s all in the past and I definitely know it so the reader should save his or her sharp mental quips for some passage where I’m really going full-blown angst-ridden-edgy teen/manchild born in the wrong generation. The thing is that my parents DO NOT know this and routinely bring up the disasters of my adolescence as well as the fact that, as far as they can tell, I’m “not getting any better”.

Kinda difficult to get better when you get told that you are actually doing the opposite several times a day in either a shrill feminine shriek or a psychotic, physically aggressive masculine shout.

As a result, my thoughts and desires have grown even firmer in the direction of that mountain city I lived in until April. I thought that, without having to stress every single day about being caught drinking or using by my halfway house mates and kicked out onto the street 100s of miles from my parents, I’d be getting an opportunity to heal in a peaceful environment. Well, how wrong that was.

All this angsty bad mouthing of my parents is just like makin this space way to negative MANNNN so I’m gonna flush out the bad vibes with another of my quick autistic word ruse- I mean GAMES YES WORD GAMES!

Here’s another fun metaphor that I’d like for the reader to have some fun with me by  guessing what it is based off this clue: It is a cooking metaphor that is a could be a common euphemism amongst at least us Americans to refer to the inconvenience of leaving a bad situation only to stumble straight into a worse one.

Guessed it? Good.

Cause if you choose “Out of the frying pan and into the fire” you’d be…. WRONG. AHAHAHA

The correct answer was “The Chef is Always Right, except on Wednesdays”.

“OH BUT THATS NOT ‘COMMON’ YOU PROBABLY JUST MADE THAT UP!” Which you’d be correct to assume as such, but notice how I worded that clue: it COULD be, so it possibly might not be a common euphemism.

Sorry if that wasn’t fun for you, so here’s another fun kitchen metaphor that I’ll just say straight out: If you can’t take the heat GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN. AHAHAHA

Lord have mercy on me. I feel bad for trying to conjure up humor in my myriad dry techniques amidst my parents obviously not having a pleasant time of me. But even if that were true, being depressed about it and sobbing or sulking in guilt would do nothing to change that situation for the better. I’ve done enough of that and, to be fair, I’ve done a fair amount of introspection over the last year (200+ wp posts almost all 1000+ words a piece) and have concluded that my parents….

I don’t know. Please pray for me. I really don’t want to have to steal a bottle of wine to not be in an anxious hell all evening but please pray that the Lord will safely ensure that I procure one without immediate consequences.

Go in Christ, friends.