“Can’t stop these feet from sinking and it’s starting to show on me. You’re staring while I’m blinking, but just don’t tell me what you see. I’m so over all this bad luck, hearing one more keep your head up, is it ever gonna change? So, let me just give up. Let me just let go, if this isn’t good for me, well, I don’t wanna know. Let me just stop trying, let me just stop fighting. I don’t want your good advice or reasons why I’m alright, you don’t know what it’s like, you don’t know what it’s like.” ~Katelyn Tarver
I am tired and yet I do not sleep for fear of dreaming. I complain it is too quiet and yet I cannot tolerate noise. With all my strength, I try to accept that I have no choice but to remain a resident of Hell. Continuously obsessed with feelings of regret feeds my hatred for my now empty life and glaucoma that wrote this tragedy leading the way to this pathetic city.
The inherent beauty once I found in my hometown of Santa Barbara in contrast to this disgusting, filthy place is heartbreaking. Against the advice of the police, I venture out with my dogs at dusk not caring if I get assaulted or murdered. I am tired of pretending everything is alright, in fact, I hate happy people.
January of this year my car insurance increased by $54 at the same time the Social Security Disability Department sent me a letter that read I would have to start paying $134. for Medicare. I have struggled to make ends meet since and have concluded poverty sucks. Yet, while trying not to become so – that I do not recognize there are many who will not eat tonight, I still want what was, but will never be again. Unbelievable is a word I use often. It is unbelievable that I am expected to live on 19k, though I try, I cannot. I want my life back, I want to go home, I want what was stolen from me by the unethical Santa Barbara Public Defender Kim Craig Williamson, may G-d strike him dead.
Everything appears old, sounds old, tastes old, is old. I want out of hell, my worst fear is to die a silent death here in Hell. I have said that I am always alone, but I am never lonely and I wonder, in the silence of this empty life, if I was lying to myself.
My Categorized Life 