nights are the worst

Last night I was lying in bed angry and sad and desolate. I started praying and about a moment into that I thought "What is the point of this?" I have blown my last chance with my Sweety and there is no longer any point at all in prayer. Jesus gave me that last chance and I pissed it way. Don't bother Jesus isn't listening anymore. It's the worst thing in the world to lie next to your love and crave their touch but at the same instance feel that if they touched you, you would brush them away for in spite. There is no more helpless place, for me any way, to be praying for a thing, and in the same moment, resenting that very thing.

I am getting more screwed up every day

I used to think about sex all the time and happily so. I beat the typical male average of sex thoughts per minute by at least twice. In my work I was the resident pervert and happily so. Any more I find my self disgusted when I think about sex or sexual things. The very notion of exchanging bodily fluids makes me just sick any more. The thought of part of my body being inside another persons body... it just creeps me out... then my dick get firm and then some how magically it become ok again. I am having a difficult time resolving those disparate thought processes. They come and go in nanoseconds... I am losing it I can feel it seeping out of my soul. My will to live my desire to carry on, its dwindling slowly.
My mom said something very similar. She is the APEX of health. None in her world are healthier. Her Acupuncturist and her Chiropractor her Herbalist, they all tell her the same thing... you will live 30 more years. She is 80 now. She screams "NO, don't say that".
I am getting to feel the same thing but I don't think I have that fate to look forward to. I abused my body rather considerably in my youth.

stuff

First up; I am listening to the Bob and Tom radio show on occasion. The have "hipped" me to theses to funny websites.

Texts from Last night

and

It was over when...

Next; I was trolling my favorite blog and she appears to have set up remote surveillance in my head. She was describing the 'voices' in her head. I was floored when I read on her blog the words of the voices in my head. It was a chilling experience. I could not believe it. The "not good enough", "the failure", "the fraud" it was uncanny. I often wonder how it is that no one else can hear what goes on in my head. The voice, that inner voice, is so loud, so constant so critical. I constantly wonder when some one is going to figure me out and then all the cards will fall and that will be that and I will live out my days under a bridge somewhere.
I think that being unemployed for so long is making this worse.
I am hopeful about two opportunities but I can feel it coming, the We figured you out. We heard the Voices, don't call here again.

more on unemployment part une

Being unemployed for a LONG time really messes with your head... really. This morning I got up to go to work (temporary though it is) at 4:00 am. I thought to my self maybe I will get hit by a truck on the Foggy highway and then I wont have to mess with this again

And the answer is…

I guess I have my answer… any sex is too much sex. I really hate being alive today. Being a depressive type any way the thought that I will be vexed by this condition the rest of my life is a bit too much to tolerate just now.

A night at the movies...

I watched a movie last night. It is in my opinion one of the best of the worst movies I have ever seen. It has a great idea for a plot line and it is executed pretty well… mostly. It is a 1997 movie called “Event Horizon”. It is a horribly gruesome movie. I don’t know why I stayed up to watch it. I felt very ugly and dirty and small afterwards. The short of the story is that a Dr. Weir developed a spaceship that is capable of folding/bending space. The Idea is to bring two distant points in space, say many many lights years apart, together, then to transition from the start point to the distant point. This allows the ship to sort of cheat at traveling faster than the speed of light. But there seems to be a catch, as you might guess with any cheat of this magnitude. There is a gap between the two points. That gap is apparently hell. The ship, on its maiden voyage to Proxima Centauri, disappears. Seven years later it reappears near the planet Neptune. A rescue ship, the 'Lewis and Clark' sent to investigate. The 'Event Horizon' comes back “possessed” by something… presumably the devil but certainly evil and very malevolent. The possessing 'spirit' fills the rescue crew with false and hateful images of fear and, you guessed it, gore, slowly pushing some towards insanity. The "bad" part is this; these are images flashed at the audience at high speed and frightening clarity in short bursts… ala subliminal advertising… that are absolutely horrific . I won’t even describe them. I said all that to say this there are a whole raft of movies out like this. The "Saw" movies, the "Hostel" movies where gore and unspeakable violence are the central attraction. They are like porn movies only... no sex, just evil, pain, and gore. At a certain level I would rather watch the porn movies… but they are not too very good for the soul either… more on that another time. How is it possible that there are enough people who will watch a movie like this, let alone enough who pay to see them to make them profitable? There must be lots of people out there willing to pay to see them… they make them all the time. Not too much for plot holds them together just excuses to torture and eviscerate people slowly and cruelly. Like I said Porn with gore not sex. Instead of the hapless pizza guy with a huge schlong who delivers to a sorority party or cougar party you have individuals with various emotional or mental deficiencies who like to bathe in blood or worse. Another movie I saw that perhaps I should not have... "The Cell" from 2000. The Cell has an Interesting sort of SCI/Fi-ish plot which is what interested me initially, layered with a time critical serial killer search. The Cell features amazingly beautiful cinematography hung on horribly ugly plot points. Sort of like having beautiful royal purple velvet drapes and furnishings in a battle field foxhole where infantry men had been blown up. I stayed to watch it but my fiancé... she did not. She was horrified by it and left.

In hind sight I should have been also. I wish, now, that I had also.