That Thing Called Crap!

It comes out of many peoples mouths...and my dogs rear. It's that thing politics live for and the thing people who commit suicide die for. What is it? You guessed. Crap. Say it any way you want and it's the same thing. I felt like writing about it because I've been feeling like its clone lately. Disgusted, disgusted, and disgusted. Ironic really.

I've just been realizing with this slap in the face that I'm pretty lost. I thought I had some direction in my life, but many people have convinced me that I'm a failure and it ain't happening. So when in doubt, complain about it. So that's what I plan on doing. Bring out the wine, I've got the violins.

I have some freaky disorder I think. It's like if I don't get something near perfect, it's not good enough. I've always been like that...not because I want to be. Sometimes I wish I could be satisfied in myself without perfecto. But I make myself sick if I try. I've given myself the nametag 'Destined To Be Great' because I have to be. Like I have to proove something. I personally think I'm ugly. Yeah, give me five gold stars for insulting myself. And some of my friends in the past up to present have made me feel like a big, gigantic, super-dee-duper L. O. S. E. R. Give them five gold stars for effort.

So what do I do? Pray to God I have brains to help me meet everyone's standards. Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. Shiver-me-timbers.

All I can say is thanks to God for sending me Super-Parents. There isn't any model for them. One of a kind. My parents really know how to make me feel like I'm something. And of course many of my friends rock my world in that way too. Unfortunately my parents and the few true friends I have don't tip the heavier side of the scales. I feel gross. Like I'll never be anything or anyone to anything or anyone...if that even made sense. I guess that's reality for you. And reality is life.

It's a new year. 2002. Too bad at the stroke of Midnight I didn't turn into Cinderella...because I sure can't be Einstein.