i found that i was drinking myself away. i was drinking my life away. i was unhappy and became more unhappy and i didn’t see that happiness was a possibility any longer. for me. all of this shouldn’t even be said but i’ve kind of had enough of the online needling attempts and assumptions, whathaveyou. being a depressed person from the start doesn’t exactly work in your favour when it comes to these things, these things as in going out every single nite, drinking, blogging about it, then doing it again and again and again and asking for a time out, begging for one even, a hey look at me what about me? us? it wasn’t anybody’s fault it was just our life and it quickly became habit. in the end i went out less, but on the nights i did i was not enjoying myself so i drank through it, still unhappy, not even drunk just drinking but still waking up hung everyday in a fog. that is not a life to live. that is not a life. on top of it everyone is always asking you the what’s up, how goes and inside you are like, fuck all, what more do i need to give you when i have nothing for myself. here comes the self-loathing tell all piece of shit you’ve been waiting for.
many have overstepped boundaries here, have too sooned some shit. not cool. five years, think about it. that’s not your shit, that’s mine.
do you want to know the honest truth? i became ornamental and allowed it. i became alone and it felt normal. i gave up on myself, on being myself. i became callous. i forgot what romance was, passion. it got lost. real world stresses took it away and in its place we put booze and companionship and familiarity. thought we’d have the rest of our lives to work it out, he did. he feels that was such a gaff, and i agree. i said (and am saying way too much now) you are going to lose me and not even notice. the last two weeks of it, personal shit (though there was always something), were very fucking hard on the both of us, for two different reasons. the short of it is i could no longer tolerate being shut out emotionally, my spirit had had enough. i actually once daily said to myself the words i want to die. over-melodramatic words, that i meant, but i could never do that. but daily i felt it. i think i even said it to a few deaf ears. i know i did.
each day if i was not feeling ok i would never let on, on my blog. smile, pull through, this is your life, make it look good. years flew by. i’m not saying there weren’t magical wonderful times too, i’m only saying i felt like in the end we were only together based purely on shallow reasons, jealousy, our looks. possessiveness. yes of course there is/was love there holding it all together but at the root of my unhappiness i looked at us and that’s what i saw. there are certain times in your life when you see things from one narrow perspective only and that’s what i saw from my murky perch.
we acted beautifully together for everyone else but us. while alone it was stretches of silences for hours in our own little online worlds until it became dark then we’d get ready and go out to whateverthefuck was going on that nite. most things i didn’t want to do, i often chose his wants over my own. there’s nothing worse than acting for people you don’t even want to hang out with when you don’t feel like hanging out. making other people’s priorities supercede that of your own until you get to a point when you don’t care about anything anymore.
i said i would be witch hunted for all this, how could i do such a thing? leave? i can’t possibly tell the truth about the truth, it’s nobody’s business but when it turns out to be like i was the catalyst, rules change. he said he didn’t care go ahead tell ‘em, he feels awful naturally. gutted. it’s a mutual feeling.
in short, you can’t change people, people can’t change and they don’t. they learn maybe, but at heart you cannot change your blueprint. fuck we tried alright. in the beginning i was so in lust in love i overlooked a few things, i know he did too. i am an extremely affectionate being but you wouldn’t know it if you knew me in the last five years.
this has been the hardest time in my life in a long time. i feel like i haven’t made an adult decision ever before this. people say it’s a brave move, some are wont to just remain in situations forever out of fear, fear of change. being bold.
everybody is asking WHAT HAPPENED. guy, there isn’t one concrete response to that, don’t be such a silly selfish fucker. many things happened over the expanse of five years. little things add up over time and then you just pop.
for the now what i’m doing is a, well rather trying to anyway, everything is hunky dory tra-la-la show must go on routine, blog-wise. it’s a mindfuck. blogging is supposed to be cathartic. we’re trying to do a no contact for a month thing, tried to before that. it’s fucking rough and tough and i feel so insane right now i’m trying to dope myself into a state of mental disappearance. i want to disappear from feeling this way. i want the ultimate relax pill.
i feel like i have lost an entire fucking city. and yes i gave the ring back.
here’s something from someone else.
maybe rather than blasting per se, it’s an opportunity to explain that the blog is built from your life – life as inspiration – but that in fact it’s a construct. truth in a fictional form. or a fiction that’s built from truth.
Paul Theroux has a novel called My Other Life. the protagonist is a famous author named Paul Theroux. but as he says in the epigraph, “this is the story of a life I could have lived had things been different.”
I dunno, it’s a complicated dance. you sort of attract readers with bits of revelation and humor and the odd nipple or two, but there’s a boundary too. you know where it is but many will never understand it.
maybe if you explain that it’s a construct, you might lose/turn off readers. dunno how that would feel to you.
I blather!
i fit right in.
fully.
one vodka pump spray or three, please.
crazytown. i’ve been holed up in here all damn day. only leaving the room for more coffee and piss breaks.
this is holly. we have a lot in common. namely, big mouths.
comin’ up next on raymiCom – bar fights and car chases!
do you find it weird that people find you so interesting that they watch little clips of your life?
yes and no. i find everything, especially the mundane, to be interesting. i love story telling and i think life is better shared. is best to be shared. viewed. but not scrutinized. i don’t know should i find it weird? i think i may be beyond half caring it just feels normal to me.
last nite got a taste of true b-town trash. twice over. wow. more on that later.
check how hot my mom is, yo.
pretty big in the insensitivity department there, jack-o.
contemplated way too many costume ideas. cher. victorian scullery maid. ninja. drunk christmas party slut. think i’ll stick with librarian/teacher. i shall carry an old book as a prop. dave‘s costume kills it, all my stuff obvs but i don’t have a beard so he takes it.
he’s left handed too though doesn’t play that way. not bringing out guitar so a flock of jocks can irritate me all nite long.
hangin’ with coug (mom) patrol tonite at a house party then to a pub? then maybe something with mara.
i know this song by heart, entire movie actually and it had (still is!) been a dream of mine to BE jack skellington in a play. i was scrooge once, i can pull off dude(s) pretty good. home alone as a kid/teen i’d recite the entire score of nightmare before christmas, speaking parts also and serenade the livingroom. COOL.
omg this is so much cooler!
ok marilyn now we can hang. getting ready song for the nite!
this dress is to be used in a video britt and i and others are going to be shooting next week starring this money-makin’ face. not supposed to reveal the dress whoops, it doesn’t exactly do up the back tho i am wearing an entire outfit beneath it so maybe we’re cool. i have a quarterback torso plus britt is six inches littler than me i am a whole other person on top of her.
rose you rule thanks for the sweet hair and the sweet afternoon (plus vino!) check her at brennen demelo. they’re movin’ on up they were at LG fashion week doin’ tricked out runway hairstyles. get in while you can.
now here i am, first roll of the game and i get a strike. all downhill from there. well actually i got a spare on my next go then i jumped in the air slipped on the super waxed floor and almost had a date with some smashed teeth. that’s caught on video too haha.
just like that eh. i am ever so delicate.
you are so right.
love this side bar diner set-up. i’m frontin’ here cos peeps be confused by the live raymi show. high chair is a nice touch.
not as bubblegum as had anticipated. next i’ll get a matte baby pink.
nails haven’t been this long in ages. how i’m fending off tearing them all out these days is beyond me but of course in saying this, today will be the day surely. who’s shirly?
it was league night so we had time to kill which was perfect as i wanted to take as many pictures as possible of this scene.
was wondering why so many people were pretending to give a shit about the big match. oh right, world series. who won?
in diagram 1 we have my signature knock-kneed post-roll stance, way graceful.
diagram two displays my THAT WAS BULLSHIT walk of shame face.
again.
one more time there.
dave is a competitive m’f’er. he hasn’t even seen the big lebowski, went over the line too so i couldn’t rip on that one. just wait.
a healthy meal was inhaled.
ponytail was spying hard on our table.
no idea why though.
can’t wait to go lighter in the hair, are you excited too?
really love this print as i can relate to that woman. ha. her figure is pure inspiration.
i love when places get it right. not going back til past ten next time (or until the big lebowski is viewed) when it’s day-glow bowling and not teeming with leaguers.
reminds me of my old room at the crawford ghetto. i hung a huge pink silk piece of material over the window that i bought from a fabric store in little italy, it was essentially 80’s bridesmaid print, embossed flowers scattered all over it. had the exact same material for a bridesmaid dress but only in purple when i was 8. anyway it cast a soothing rose tint to the many hangovers spent in those coordinates.
on a bad day it makes you feel crazy.
modesty is for ugly people. not my quote.
meet the rat’s nest.
red things in the red room confuse the camera. that bear goes way back.
red cam.
draw the curtains, tidy your shit (not the bed), and you quickly feel sane again.
how’d this redundancy get overlooked?
i have to deal with my gym now, the fucking gym i stupidly joined. it’s so not funny that it’s funny.
and what the hell to be for halloween? might wear my victorian scullery maid costume or one of my ridiculous dresses. yes, i’ll go as a wizard.
so last week or so ate at this little mediterranean joint tucked away in a little plaza somewhere and their shawarma is on par with agabi, also their garlic sauce. so pumped over this. anyway, the girl serving us was very into us, as customers, or persons, derno. there was also a huge table overtaken by a post funeral party it seemed, or church group i don’t know, anyway their vibe compared to ours was not in the party zone, not like ours was but it forced us into comedic relief territory. so anyway the point of this nothing story is our young waitress was all what are you guys up to after this? rightly assuming cool people do more cool things after doing cool things. so i says dunno not much gonna go get high probably then she says i’m so fucking jealous. interesting. interesting when your server drops an f-bomb on your table. good for her.
so we go back last nite for munchies and on the way in a joke is made about this flirtatious chick, something like hey after this do you guys want to get high? then i quipped, girl, we’re only here because we are high.
then we go in and they’re blasting 90s gino beats slash techno, seriously can we have some ecstasy next, straight up scene was what we walked into and as it turns out they’re open til 4am on weekends, weekdays midnite. then this weirdo full-out drunk comes in wearing a porkpie hat, ron jeremy lookin’ character complete with mustache and asks the bartender (different girl this time though looked suspiciously like the other one) if he can get her a drink, like, 5 times. the awkward emanating from over yonder was palpable so when she came over to collect our check and asked if we needed anything else i said yeah i was wondering if i could buy you a drink. she busted up laughing. the guy had been barhopping “downtown” and it was dead apparently.
i have an enormous chin witch zit that is fucking with my game large right now it almost warrants not going out for 24 hours. i might buy it a cellphone.
i am excited for the new bubblegum pink nail polish i purchased yesterday. um yes i just said that.
orillia cottage junk part two fifty days later and irrelevant.
the order of these makes me want to strangle whatever the best thing to strangle ever is ugh whyyyy flickr whyyy?
thanks for the mom jeans, mom. we trade/share zellers request jeans cos they’re the only cheap ones in existence that can handle our chicken thighs. and i’m wearing leggings beneath these.
i’m also super bored and irritated at this point in time. more electrical work had to be done, not by me, and everyone else was doing yard work and there was a slight detection of tension in the air. you know when someone tidies up all around you they are basically FUCK YOU cleaning all aggressive-like so you’re forced to move as far away as possible ugh COOL thanks. even if you offered help they’d refuse it, you’d do it wrong, not their way, but still get punished (passive aggression) for it anyway? one way to deal with this is by cracking a beer and sluggin’ half it down while walking away so they have a vision to shake their head by while they furiously paint.
meanwhile nite before hung tired crabby trying to get power in the dark. the job was switching from fuse box to breaker.
jesus, have fun with that.
i lit 40 candles. even their special ones. took great satisfaction out of it.
EW. that one really grossed me out.
amazing wood stove.
note to self. adjective brother and his bros frequently use. for example: henry drank a dickload of beer.
omg these things. i’m pointing to the spoiled brat of the bunch. nice rock of love pants TURN UP THE POISON PLEASE.
nice things though, the one on the outside growled at wiley and sage. yes. five dog weekend.
keep it together.
biting my lip here cos something was just said that set me off. secretly snarked out all weekend. sometimes one nite too many gets spent overstaying your welcome at someone’s cottage and everyone has to walk around feigning manners and by the time you leave you want to pour an entire pitcher down your throat. the only solution is getting your own cottage. i would love to go greater into detail but i feel bitchy enough already.
i think dave got busted referring to the little one as a little rat. they didn’t say anything about it though. the actual quote was “get out of here you little rat” HAHAHAHA aw. he was just bitter from working.
gorgeous.
dinner reward.
this is how you get me to eat potatoes. as a kid i hated them so much. baked in tinfoil on the bbq is delish.
good morning.
do you like the shift from drinking blog to drinking weed jokes blog?
why not.
gahahaha.
that doesn’t even look real to me. i don’t know what i’m trying to say.
nice bush camo jacket i can’t even SEE you is that a floating cigarette?
not a chance in hell i could/would take a video while riding that shit.
then i added fear of being shot by hunters to the list.
oh you betcha. when in rome…
look i can be classy while being classy.
take notes.
i realised that “part two” of orillia was really just 60 photos of me playing spicoli.
LETS ORDER A PIZZA.
hair appointment has been made. more blond more more MORE.
OUTTIE!
pukebee’s. the bartender was amazed by the addition of oj to beer. don’t you need a smart serve to be a bartender in a chain establishment therefore you’d know about this shit? rickard’s white plus orange slice? too fancy for barrie? was that barrie?
barf. not mine but still.
my ridiculous meal concoction was actually delicious but not an hour later. or for the rest of the night. beneath that cheese thing, well, that cheese thing IS chicken.
i know this post sucked you don’t have to tell me.
