Too much influx...

There are so many people telling me what I should do, what I should be and most priceless how I should feel.

It's fabulous, if you are in their shoes. I think in their minds they are saving me.

No. They are trying to change me...to their standards.

I am NEVER going to be normal. I like that I'm not. So what the fuck is the problem?

"India, your'e weird." people say...a lot.

My response..."Yeah...and your point is?"

They can never actually answer this question. I get the sputters of "Well..you know India...you're just weird."

My response..."Haven't we covered this already?"

People assume things about another person. Not fair. I've done it...I'm no angel. I learned though, you never know what a person really is or what they are thinking.

I've learned that when people say shit like that to me...it means they envy me. They can't be weird.

I love it.

My neighbor asked me as I was petting his dog...

"So, does the guy with the long black hair live with you again?"

Me...What?"

"Yeah, he's been jogging through the neighbor. I see him all the time."

"He's been running through here?"

"Yeah, that's why I thought he lived there again. I stopped at the intersection down the street and he ran by me and screamed "Fuck You!" I didn't understand why."

Oh fuck. That would be him.

He said he thinks he lives in Atwater. He sees him start out in the morning by the resevoir and after he's gone to the store he sees him on my street.

Information I needed to know but didn't want to hear.

"Sleep with one eye open, India because I will kill you."

I don't doubt him for a second.

A friend of mine said "You always say you are such a good person...

but you're not."

Okay then. I would not say this to any one. Does that make me a bad person?

I know EVERYONE's bullshit because I am the sounding board. How I got this job I do not know. Maybe it's my penance for talking about DD for all those years. I accept this but it wears on a person.

I take every ones poison in. All their tears, sorrow, regret, anger, pain, happiness, achievements, love, boyfriends/girlfriends, break-ups, family problems, car problems, fridge problems, washer or dryer problems...get my point yet?

I roll all of those into a lovely ball and put them in a special place in my heart.

However, When I get pissy...people don't understand.

This is what I've concluded. I will continue to sit as a wall flower and listen but you better watch out because this wall flower can explode like 1970's wall paper.

People are always telling me...

I'm always wrong. Over and over and over again.

I don't think people understand kindness in this world.

I've been butchered by several of my friends lately. I take it...all in a days work.

They don't understand what it does to me...when I can't finish a Goddamn fucking sentence when I am talking to them.

There was a knock on the door this morning...

It was on the door frame. That's what Vance does. The girls were fast asleep. I was the only one that heard it.

I was frozen. I could hear the crunching of the leaves as some one was walking away.

I sat for a couple of minutes and then I looked out the window...who ever it was, was already gone.

People don't get it...thank god they don't.

The Gas guy came to change out meters out at 7:00am two days ago with out warning and knocked on the door. I shot up in bed...Robert made it to the front door before me. I have to admit I hid behind him. I was scared.

I've tried to make people afraid of Vance...some people believe me and some people don't.

Believe me, this man is going to explode in to a million pieces and take people out with him.

Does any one FUCKING believe me?

It takes a lot to get me pissed...

Now I'm just fucking enraged.

How many ways can I be classified?

Bitch, whore, stupid, ugly, fat, ignorant, ginnie, whop, jew, fucking mexcian, loser.

I deserve these words how?

I'm tired of taking the poison of other peoples grief.

I'm kind. It's a really fucking hard job.

Try it out some time.

My friend has been going through a hard time...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uPZpczQs1Fc&NR=1She had a fabulous friend pass away. I can hear her pain though the phone. There isn't shit I can do about it.

Time heals all wounds? Fuck off. It doesn't. The saying sounds pretty but it's bullshit.

A person hurts, they try not to cry.

I guess a person just has to remember the bright that was in then not the dark when they passed.

This song is for her friend. I didn't know him but I think it fits.

For Stevan.

And it was his mother's coffee cup...shit.

I spent 5 hours cleaning the kitchen. Yes...it was that dirty. Ants every where. I was out of comet so I had to use pure bleach. It always makes me feel weird. Like I'm high or something. I went down.

When I woke up my roommate had placed one coffee cup in the sink. Are you fucking kidding me? And yes I said that to him. He was half asleep and muttered "I thought it looked nice in the sink."

My response, you might ask? "Some times nice things break."

I rinsed it out and threw it into the dish strainer. He's lucky his favorite coffee cup survived.

He apologized later. He said "You should have broken it. You cleaned the whole kitchen and I didn't help. It looks great."

My response "Thank you." That's all I wanted was a thank you and a little respect.

Help would have been nice but he's a man. Go figure.