Overcast With 90% Chance Rain.

Very Old piece I wrote.

I know the old saying "when it rains it pours", but c'mon now this is getting a little ridiculous. I am asking it to stop now, for the love of God please stop.

I was raised by a lunatic religious woman, who now bounces back and forth between worshiping God and worshiping Manaschevitz. Manaschevitz being the booze that after she drank an entire bottle placed a phone call to me to tell me she felt a little sacrilegious drinking this wine, let alone the whole bottle but... it was ok because after she poured each glass she knelt and said a prayer to God. This you should not doubt for a second and if you were raised by this woman you'd fully understand. Anyway back to my story.... so as a young girl I only knew what I was being taught by my siblings, teachers, and parents. From each direction came the same answer to every problem, "pray to God.", "put it in his hands". So when my young feeble mind was perplexed I prayed. I also was told to live this certain way, a higher standard of being human. Lift your brother up, help the less fortunate, be good and decent and kind. These things I took very seriously, no one clued me in to the fact that most of these God loving liars just told others that's the way to live but didn't apply it to their actual lives. However, when I was young, I was still hopeful and optimistic. At about 8 or 9 is when I realized most people just talked and didn't practice what they talked, and my youthful take on it was that these people were just not strong enough to actually handle what the world had to offer so it was easier to keep it at an arms length. Why hurt, be really happy, or feel anything at all when there is all this glorious numbness. So my way of dealing with this was praying. I must have prayed the same prayer three hundred times. It was always the same, "Dear God seeing that all these people cannot deal with what they have made of this world give me all the crap. When someone needs to see pain, death, sadness, or difficulties just give it to me. My back is strong I can take it. Amen". Man if a human being has ever wanted to eat their words.... I just don't know what eating them would do for me.

Up until this last year I have been able to handle everything that has been thrown my way. I have always been proud of my ability to be resilient, and my ability to handle the life around me. Take this down... I can not handle it anymore. Takebacksee's on that old prayer of mine. I hit a point where all I want is one good thing to happen around me. A nice elderly person in the grocery store saying "hey you dropped your bag of ramen noodles" would be good enough for me. Anything! Instead after I have struggled with an on again off again tweaker as a live in boyfriend who I'm crazy about when he's the guy I met who was full of jokes and understanding and kindness, and not an angry tweaker. The kind of friend I have dreamed of meeting. But now has given me hell over the job I had when I was the only one paying bills and rent. Who, when my closest friend in LA shot himself in his heart and I was cleaning out his house preparing for the funeral the week before my already planned birthday party and I asked him to do one thing for me, which was go to the funeral with me and my birthday party because I knew they would be really hard on me, slept instead. I understand... it was too hard for him. He couldn't deal, so he slept. Who, when I took him to Oregon to meet my mother and sister and my ma's family for my grandfathers 90'th birthday had a temper tantrum because we weren't running around for the two days there doing what he wanted. Got into to it with my mom, which I'm not always her biggest fan but there's this thing when you just suck it up to make it easier for the one you say you love. Who, goes on two month spells of not looking at me or touching me. Who, has made it perfectly clear to me that he's had thinner, prettier, and kinder. Who, when I was raped in Chicago in September which I know is apparently taboo to talk about but fuck it... it happened and what I'm supposed to pretend it didn't because it makes people uncomfortable... well how the fuck do you think I feel, asked me to tell him that I needed him to get through this and the second I did he turned his back because his ex had problems and told me it was all too much for him. So I dealt with it on my own and now it's a problem because I'm not including him in my healing process, well make up you freakin' mind. Then I got canned from my job where I was supposed to be a partner and they just stuck their cold hard dick up my ass, I'm not worried though they'll get theirs. There is an evil side of me that wants to screw them but I don't play that way, as a dear friend of mine drunkenly once said "Bec Bec don't play that". I had saved enough money that I wouldn't have to work for several months and be OK then last Thursday at 4 in the morning I heard my boyfriend in the living room(I was sleeping in the bedroom) saying "Fuck, goddammit, ...oh no". I ran in the living room to see my tiny kitten laying in front of the couch in a pile of his own shit and drool gasping for a breath. Apparently he fell off the couch. "The kitten is going to die", he said. "No he's not", I said, "not on my watch(I wasn't making sense yet)", and grabbed a sweat shirt wrapped it around the kitten and headed to the emergency clinic. The clinic told me they were going to have to put him to sleep.. ironically my boyfriend had just called me to tell me not to go to that clinic because they have a shitload of bad reports on the Internet saying they are euthanasia crazy there. So I told the doctor exactly that and said my cat isn't dying today, not on my watch(still not making much sense). So then they said the only thing that may help is a blood transfusion and that they had an in-house cat with the same blood type but they were closing at 8, it was 7:15am. Funny because their sign said 24hour emergency service which is obviously 10pm-8am. So I called another hospital they didn't have the blood type there but could help. So I had to pay these pricks 780.00 dollars for a bag of blood. So here I am with a shit covered dying kitten in my lap drooling and silently meowing at me for help and a bag of blood next to me in my dead best friends crappy Ranchero racing to the next hospital. After being there for an hour stinking their waiting room up with the poisonous poo smell all over my lap they told me the little guy would be getting a sugar/water i.v. and blood transfusions all day and to come back at 5pm. So I headed home and when I arrived home Boobies one of the other cats was on her death bed. So I grabbed her, and Tremendous the other kitten even though he seemed fine but I wasn't making a third death run. I headed to my normal vet but when I got all the way over there I found out the vet's office had burned down. So I called my boyfriend and asked him to go online and find the vet closest to where I was. Gateway, I got there and they checked the other two out. Turns out Tremendous who seemed fine is the sickest of them all with a life threatening 106 degree temperature, Boobies 105.3. So they got thrown on i.v.'s. At 5 pm I went to gather up all the babies to bring them home to sleep here before taking them back in the morning when my boyfriend call to tell me he was on the toilet when a big grapefruit sized bulge fell from his stomach. I told him he just had a hernia, and I would be home soon to take him to the hospital. So here I sit with dying cats. I can't get their temperatures to go down and I can't afford to take them back to the vets because all my not working savings went to emergency pet care which I wouldn't have it any other way but now I'm screwed. Old hernia apparently went missing. He left today at 1:30 to see his son and ex. It's now 1am and he's not home I guess 3 year olds stay up later these days. I'm tired I miss my best friend who without a doubt would be here helping me with all this shit. He would just sit here and hug me which is all I need. I miss having at least one good thing to hold onto. I'm falling into the numbness, but I won't pretend and tell everyone I'm being nice and holy and great. I'm not... I hate everyone and I'm sick of this disgusting planet we call home. I'm sick of this disgusting place I call home. I owe nobody anything and have done my share. I have worked hard my entire life and have been a very decent person up to this point. Quite honestly I don't give a shit what anyone thinks anymore and I honestly cannot believe how selfish, lonely, and just plain gross this world is. Doesn't anyone have any heart left in them??? Planet of the Apes! Losertown U.S.A.. Society of the Damned, Earth.

Long story short I can't take it anymore.



*Note there may be serious grammatical errors just posting old stuff.