Abuse · me, · Rape · me, · Berate · me....

Yet another mental breakdown. I seem to be good at this sort of thing. Not that I can really help it.... I seriously blame it on genetics. I have one of the craziest families on the face of the planet, barring homicide and suicide, of course. Though we have everything else, from alcohol abuse to spousal abuse. Even my sister is playing the domestic violence card with her boyfriend, and she's only seventeen. We start 'em young in our clan. Then people look at me like "how did you turn out almost normal?" The answer: I didn't. I'm just neurotic, not a complete lunatic, but I still fall into the category of crazy. Why do you think I'm still single? Anyway. Let me make a list of why I blame genetics for you:

My maternal grandmother: Accusing, 'Me' complex, the constant need to make the problems of others all about her.
My mother: See above. Add the fact she's on a hundred pills for anxiety and the like. Therapy's making her worse.
My sister: Alcoholic. Depressed. Moderately bipolar. Penchant for violence.
My aunt: Bipolar. Severely.
My dad: Drug addict. Depressed. Anxiety issues.
My paternal grandmother: Controlling.
My paternal grandfather: Also controlling. Alcoholic.

Need I state more? I'm kind of doomed. It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't see more than half of them on a daily basis. But anyway, enough with my crackpot theories, and onto the real purpose for the post.

I'm sitting here. In my cubicle. Staring at a phone that I'm supposed to be dialing to make the sales I need to keep my job, and maybe cut some sort of commission check.... Do you think I can bring myself to do that? Of course not. Because, like everything else I do, sales isn't my thing. I can't find my niche. My personality type doesn't fall into the category of making people buy shit, even if they need it.

But what else am I supposed to do? I don't have any marketable skills, nothing that separates me from the seventy-five-million other applications floating around out there. My entire existence is "entry level." I have two writing projects on my hands right now. Do you think I can move anywhere with either of them? No. Why? Because even my writing, the one thing I used to love to do, is "entry level." Any monkey with alphabet flash cards, a fantasy novel, and a type writer can do what I do. And I don't even have the alphabet flash cards. Guess that puts me one step behind the monkey.

Maybe being locked in a cubicle from morning till night is getting to me. Giving me too much time to think. Regardless, though. I'm going crazy. Or crazier, I should say.

Well. Break time. My one reprieve. And even then, I'm stuck standing outside with the smokers just for conversation. ~_~;

Till my next emotional outburst....

~Kit.

Or something like that.
This post is going to contain my 'before' pictures. All the pictures of my pig sty. <3

Number one. Bells' cage.

Number two. The Book Case.

Number three. Shelving unit behind my door.

Number four. The dresser.

Number five. The mess in FRONT of my dresser.

Number six. My bed.

And now for something cute. Bells tucks himself in. <3

Wish me luck, guys. x.x I have my work cut out for me.

So, I've kind of tossed myself into something of... an overwhelming situation lately. The hardest part, though, is deciding where to begin. Let's see what I can put out for you.... (Neatly bulleted, of course. =))

• The Book: Ya, ya, you guys have been hearing about this for ages, I know. Well, recently, within the last few months, I had a complete mental breakdown, and scrapped fifteen chapters of draft work (a combination of two books that had been merging into one, and were fast becoming a series), and two single subject notebooks of world building material.

  This damn near destroyed me when I was okay enough to realize what I'd done (two garbage removals later). So I started fresh, and salvaged from my memmory a good portion of my worlds, and outlined a trilogy that could easily grow into something more. Right now, my writing goal is five pages a night, and draft one is coming along nicely. Of course that means Dakai and Asphodel are ever growing and thriving.

  I feel as thought I've been given a new lease on creativity, even if I'm too tired some nights to meet my page quota. I'm still quite some time away from publication, but the dream is finally a goal that I'm actually working toward.

• The Store: Here's a relatively new development. Jessi and I recently talked about opening up a store in the near future. What kind of store, you ask? A metaphysical shop, of course! Something to cater to magical and alternative religious and spiritual needs. I think, as things stand now, I would be at the store full time, and Jessi would work when she wasn't at her day job. I plan to have a book published by then (hopefully the one mentioned above), and be writing and working at the store which doesn't have a name as of yet (book or store. XD) I'll offer more details as they become available to me. Business plans are tedious.
• The Job: I make phone calls. ALL. DAY. And people yell at me. And I'm not allowed to yell back, because apparently that's 'bad public relations skills.' Duh. That's the point. That's pretty much all I have to say about that.
• Roleplay: I don't get much roleplay anymore. In text form, or in super-spiffy notebook-and-dice form. That=sad. SO. I'm networking here. Anyone who wants text-based roleplay... EMAIL ME! Same goes for table-top. If anyone is accepting players into their group, of course. I learn fast. =D Please contact me! I'm deprived. T-T

In closing, I just want to say, I'm going a little crazy. But that's why you love me, yes? Yes.

P.S. Anyone who replies to me for RP will be compensated in celery and smiley face stickers. <3

I like to have sympathy for the villain. It’s important to me to be objective. Evil is an idea, not a fact, and anyone who tells you different is a fucking liar. Who’s to say the man behind the black mask doesn’t have pure intentions? Doing the world a favor through death and destruction is still trying to do the world a favor, isn’t it?

There is no ‘good and evil.’ Only idealism and desperation.

If there isn't truth in this in the real world, then my characters make it their truth. They make it their business to hate one another, to love one another, and to strive for what they believe in, 'good' or 'evil'. Idealistic, and always desperate.

I write this now as a reminder to myself not to fall into the classic cliche of the battle of good vs. evil. I want to feel my villains and their pain. I want my heroes to be the villans when they crush the hand of 'evil' that's crushed the world in which they live. I want them to hate and love without reserve. I want them to stray from their paths, and have doubts in their hearts. I want them to be tragic.

Always tragic.

I want them to be the embodiment of humanity.