// Nikki Farce

I really am one of the last people to preach, but.

FOR CHRIST’S FUCKING SAKE, (or for your OWN) anyway,
PUT.
DOWN.
THE FUCKING.
PHONE.

I mean it. Get your fucking faces out of your fucking smart phones. They are making you dumb. Like, point blank DUMB.
I see it, so much. All day. Every day. Customers, roommates, friends of friends, strangers… all inside their phones. ALL the time!
All doing things that have nothing to do with real life. Cuz I’ll tell you something that someone with a brain told me: Life is happening right now.
Real life is what’s going on around you. Right now. This moment. Look around you.
Stuff is happening, is it not?
If it isn’t?
PARTICIPATE.
MAKE something happen.
Have an idea, think for yourself.
Go a whole day without internet. I bet you can’t. Ironically, I can.

God damnit.

Yes. I’m posting this from my phone.
if that’s all you’re taking from this, get fucked.

Posted from WordPress for Android

I love the utter bullshittery of the term “human race.”
The fact that life could be comparable to a sporting event such as a race is to insinuate that life as a human (although having a beginning and an end) is something that can also be won. I’ve yet to see a true race in which everybody loses, every single time. Besides of course, the Infamous Human Race.
Then again, I suppose if you’re into any faith or religion of some sort and can suspend your disbelief, then you probably could “win” so to speak.
As for the rest of us though. Bloody well fucked.
Who wants to be anywhere near a race nobody wins?
Yeah, maybe the cars are cool looking and the exhaust smells great, and there are crashes, but really. No winning?
I hope nobody tries to fund that idea.

Posted from WordPress for Android

And I’ve lost faith in the human race.
I accept there’s no one out there that quite sees it the way that I do. And if there are, you poor fuckers, cuz you’re clearly alone.

I really can’t think of a more fucked up and incomparable living situation.
The freethinking, mellow, wild hippie and the straight as an arrow, entitled-as-fuck, bullheaded military firefighter good ‘ol boy.
One of us has a death wish, I swear it.
I used to think it was cool how he would help people and do things, but now it’s like I’m just repulsed by his “it’s my job, give me a fucking cookie, hug me hug me, blah blah blah…”
It’s not your fucking job. You are a tractor mechanic. You’ve ended more lives than you’ve saved. You want to take on responsibilities? Try helping me and the state take care of your family. Try being mentally or emotionally accessible. Try existing in the World you’ve created, it’s essentially all you have you know.
Your life is what you make it, if it’s a steaming pile of shit, I refuse to have a hand in that.
Not even going to step in it, or scoop it for you.
I’m too happy to bother with it.

Posted from WordPress for Android

They take away your independent thought, instead tell you what to think, how to think it, and strip you of all feeling.
You don’t need it, you’re government property now.
Your momma’s not here, you’re not at home, you can’t take even take a piss without someone knowing about it. Not that they’re worried, any urges to do anything were eradicated along with your personality. You’re a finely tuned machine, minutes the carburetor.
Programmed, like a Galaxie with a fuel injection crammed into it. Just does what the computer tells it.
They fill you up with immeasurable pride for what you’re doing, and play off of that by rewarding your “bravery” by the selfless acts and greatest body counts.
You kill people. Inhumanely. Women, children, men, babies. Because they tell you to. And even better, they TEACH you how to. Quickly and effectively.
You do what you’re told.
You level entire cities, citizens, by force.
Why?
Why, because you were told to.
The people deserve it, they were shooting at you!
(Because you’re terrorists!)
To them you look like monsters!
Would you not do the same if someone came plowing into your house, trying to kill you and “save” your family from you?

You can’t justify them, nor can you hate them. They’re just doing what they’re told.
They’d kill their own mother if their higher-ups told them to.
They have to. If they don’t, they’ll be killed.
Now, Martial law? That’s on our own soil.
Military law.
These mindless, soulless, bodies over on our soil taking us out one by one, at least those of us with enough of a brain in our head to question “why?”

Posted from WordPress for Android

When you stare paradise in the face once a week and see how perfect your life could be forever, it’s like the first breath of life into an asphyxiation victim.
However. When week after week, in the morning, you have to drag yourself back to confront the twisted reality of the life that actually IS yours to have and accept, it’s really kind of a kick in the face.
In beginning to realize this, I think it becomes easier and easier to admit that in fact yes, I AM just spending my days searching for the right combination of drugs to keep me upright and out of bed on the other days. The lifeless days.
I feel like every day is just waiting. Killing time. Pissing it away until whenever the magical and illusive time comes that I get to finally have exactly what it is that I want. Or is this it?
Surely not. I hope not.
I choose my paths though. Choose my substance. Almost as well as they choose me, keeping me in their cold and dead and lonely clutches.
Over Substance’s dead body will I ever be able to get out.
Over Substance’s dead body.

Posted from WordPress for Android

Is it about my life that it just seems to get more and more odd without any room for resolution or improvement?
I’m the absolutely not complaining,  just curious I guess.
On the contrary, I’m quite happy. I’m just more mystified at my outrageous amount of mellow and acceptance of everything that is negative in my universe. I’m sure the consumption of massive amounts of alcohol helps, but I’m sure that won’t work forever…
Maybe it will.

After all, I am the Doctor. Doctor knows best.

Keep on Not-Give-a-Fucking. Stay mellow. Stay quiet. Find better drugs. Stay content. Keep loving. Roll on.
The upswing is always so worth it.
If I didn’t have such an amazing, supportive, patient boyfriend who’s always willing to be there for me, I’d hate to see where I would be.
No, that’s a lie. Because I’d still be right here, I’d just be worse off and lonely ;[

Posted from WordPress for Android

I think I’ve been so ‘high strung’ lately at the realization that there is no good reason for discontentment. Like ever.
My mood is directly affected by my surroundings, and that’s great when my surroundings are favorable. The issue arises when the kid’s dad comes home.
He is such a negative minded malcontent, and I’m learning pretty quickly that the more I get fed up with his self-inflicted unhappiness, the easier it is to walk away from.
Just, walk away.
Why let it affect me?
If you want to be unhappy, there’s nothing I can do about it. I certainly can’t make someone else’s happiness out of thin air. And if your choice is as such, well you can be cranky all day long. But you can do it alone, because I’m leaving you here. By yourself.

It’s not my problem. It’s yours.

I only wish that I could be doing the boring and mundane things with somebody that equally enjoys such things….
But someday.
Soon.

Posted from WordPress for Android

The more I mull it over (and I may be wrong,) I think to be poly is something that I consider to be a handicap. Unlike gay or straight or Bi (which arguably one is “born as”, I personally don’t think so though,)
To be either poly or pan (or one or both) I really believe is a conscious or learned preference based on past experiences that you have been through or learned from.
Therein lies the handicap.
I think that because of all my past relationship mistakes, I’ve just decided to accept that I’ll never be 100% to any one person, but the combined affection of two or more significant others should add up to the 100% that I’d like to get back out of the relationship(s).
So I give 100%, I get 100% in return, everything is even-stevens right?
No. Because there’s biases. Insecurities. Circumstance. All preventing everything from being what would be ideal. Now, before you roll your eyes and fuck off, let me say something.
I’m not looking for sympathy.
I’m not looking for prickish responses.
I’m NOT looking for another person to share my life with.
I’m just venting because I don’t want to keep it in my head any longer.
Its a hard thing to figure out how to fix.

Posted from WordPress for Android

That is all.

Posted from WordPress for Android