:: Against the Sky ::

Can't say that I'm ahead of my time, I fear my time will never come.
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:: Friday, December 02, 2005 ::

Here goes.-Pt.1

I've been feeling fairly depressed lately, and as I"m sure at least some of you know what I've been going through; I think it's absolutely warranted. I've always been pretty good at keeping my feelings and honest thoughts to my self, but are tiems when you need to say what you can't keep in anymore. I actually hadd to smoke a cigarette before I started this post because I didn't really how, or what exactly to say. Plus, I wanted to try and collect my thoughts, so this would have at least some semblance of continuity, which, I'm sure you will find to have come to no avail whatsoever.

This has been going on gradually since before King (R.I.P. asshole). I think around the time I stopped working full time for Badger Sound. Things were slowing down at work, I was only going up there once a week, tops. So, I started working for my Dad again, which isn't all bad, but I'd really rather be doing something else, like working more with AnnahFought. So, yeah working for my dad, working for my dad, then this woman comes up to us one day, we'll call her Kathy cus that's the moist cunt's fucking name. She came up to us one day looking for scrap lumber. Apparently this and the few other times she came around, sparked some sort of relationship between her and my Dad. He told my mom that it wasn't sexual in any way.

My dad, this year had brought on too much work, flat out, and now he finally admits it. He was stressed out, money problems had pretty much taken control of him, that eventually led into a serious case of depression, which he now is taking some medication for. There were a few times about a month ago, where he wouldn't come home at night. Eventually he just stopped coming home at all. One of the last days I actually 'worked for my dad,' all Rickey (other guy I work with) and I did all day was collect all of our shit from the various garages that we were working at. We were pretty much pulling the plug on all of our projects, and my Dad had more or less decided to call it quits for the winter. In September.

Now it turns out, much to my chagrin, that he has been staying at this bitch's house all this time. One of the guys who used to work with us saw his fucking truck parked on the corner where she lived. He called Rickey, and he told me about it. Now, after the third or fourth night of not seeing my Dad, I had assumed that this was the case, but I had simultaneously done the best to keep as far away from possible truth as I could. I went over to the house, called my mom, told her we found him, she went over, and I left, which I think was a smart move.

BAM=>KING=world turned inside out, then fucked in the ass with a railgun. I think I did pretty well through the whole ordeal of that Monday night at Coasters, and I didn't even think I'd be able to sit through the funeral and leave without falling apart a little bit. But that same night at Coasters, again, I don't want to say this, but it was as if everyone that night (myself included) decided to just not deal with anything, save for the people that didn't come and wanted to cope/do their own thing. Which is absolutely fine, I don't care how ya do it, as long as you can do it healthily. But, I'm assuming that that night can be blamed entirely on alcohol. Just about everyone who came that night left that place in a drunken funk that, at least, I needed. The funny things is, I have had 2 nights sober since Oct. 24.

So, things started moving slowly along, and we finally got a conirmation, a drunken one, but a confirmation nonetheless, that my Dad was going to be living there for while. A while turned into a mite shy of a month. Eventually, we got him to see a counselor with the rest of the family to more or less explain what had been going on. We all went, and it was a rollicking fuckin time. Less than a week after that, he stole my fucking car. I was in Escanaba, and when I got back there was a message talking about the police having my plate number and shit. That same night, I was on my way to, well, Coasters oddly enough, and I spotted my car at the church. My mom coincidentally enough was driving like two block behind me, also saw my car, and we both got out and went in. We found him in a room on the third floor with an almost empty six pack in front of him. I told him I was taking my car, and then I walked to my car, only to find a couple trashbags full of clothes, a handful of empty beer cans, and an empty bottle of cheap peppermint schnapps. Oh, and like a pound of lettuce and sauce and shit from a Big Mac the drunk ass tried to eat. My car smelled wierd for like a week.

But, on the bright side, my Dad has continued to see the counselor in sessions with my mom however often. He is now living in our house again, although he's sleeping in my brother's room. things are starting to look, aside from all of the varied levels of "Ole Rusty" I get from various financial instutions in the next few months. That's my main conern right now, money. I need to fucking move out of this cubby hole I live in right now, get a decent place that's not too expensive, and start doing my thing. I need to win the lottery, then take a fucking vacation.

Oh, and this cold air can fuck right off as well.



:: Colin 3:06 AM [+] ::
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