Tides are Turning: Chapter 3

September 14, 2015

I guess I’ll write in here before my big day. It’s to no surprise that these past few days have been a living nightmare of people telling me what to do and how to do it. It’s filled with people pretending to know my situation better than I do and it’s filled with no one to talk to. Tomorrow is the job interview and I don’t have high hopes. I guess I have medium hopes. I’m just going to try my best and whatever happens happens. These past few days it’s been hard for me to do anything creative. I cried a lot yesterday…Certain people allowed certain things to happen that I didn’t want to happen before this interview. For instance, people reminding me of U of H and how I failed the PTCB exam. I didn’t need that before this interview…but nonetheless it was shoved in my face unintentionally. I guess people around me are just used to getting whatever they want and whenever they want.

Mom put the most effort into John and in that aspect his life turned out perfect. Chris and I were kind of left kicking. My destiny after high school was to just become a pharmacy tech and that was it. I believe mom actually let Chris follow digital graphics first before pushing him into other fields. I had to claw and rebel to get my passion…and then it squashed me in the face. Now…everything is up in the air and everyone wants to see it like everything I’ve been through was nothing…but it’s traumatic. They don’t understand this time…I think they get a kick out of letting me know what I haven’t experienced yet. “Oh when you’re on your own” or “you haven’t lost anyone”. They love to lecture me on how easy it is for me and how hard it was for them. If it were easy for me then I wouldn’t be going through this fucking phase.

…but they don’t see it like that and they never will. That’s the nature of the beast. Still…I’m going to go in there…with my head up high and give it my all like I always do. None of it will matter when everything is all set and done. Hopefully following my dreams with the band will pay off. Weeks go by pretty fast these days. In a blink of an eye I’ll be thinking “the interview already happened”.

September 16th 2015

Well that’s the end of that. Rejected…as expected…too expected. I feel like it’s elementary school again and that one bully kept taking my pencil and showing me what he did. It got to a point where it didn’t even bother me anymore because I already knew he was going to take it…and he did and I always had extra pencils. I will admit I did feel pretty sour, but it wasn’t as bad as the days previous before…but perhaps it should have been. I think I’m already used to the way reality treats me now. It’s harder for me to get things that other people can get easier. I don’t know who thought that this would be any different. I probably shouldn’t have applied in the first place and just kept up my studying. Instead I listened to the pipe dream that this job is a dream and I wouldn’t even have to study to be a pharmacy tech. Maybe some of me believed I would get the job and some kind of sunshine would light this darkness that I’m surrounded by…but no…the darkness continues and the tides remain the same…

I still need to be saved.

I wish things were better for me…I really do. I wish people would stop demonizing me. I remember when everyone got mad at me for a second time John stated “I put off things” and I asked him “what exactly do I put off?” he couldn’t really find that certain thing. The thing is that I don’t put off anything, and I always try my hardest…however, my luck is pretty shitty so often times it doesn’t really matter how hard I put myself into something…someone always has the power over what I do…and as long as that exist, then I’m screwed.

Just got done working on “I miss you”. It’s good to focus on what makes me feel good and writing music makes me feel good. Come to think of it, it isn’t music’s fault that I get depressed or anything, it’s the people who pretend to own it. Whether it be a record producer or a college professor…they pretty much are hand in hand…I just have to find out a way to kick ass at music. Phoenix Splash Band will be perfect…maybe all of these failures are just a sign for me to get famous with my band. Maybe “God” doesn’t want me to get distracted with Costco or Music school. Ha…maybe…

September 19, 2015

Looks like it’s two dogs in one year. Burying two dogs I mean…first Hank and now Rock died. I’m not entirely sad that Rock died.  I feel like it’s reality throwing crap at me again, trying to break me down like it did before. I’m starting to wonder how it is I’m sane and how it is I haven’t complete broken as an individual. Me being broken down would equal me doing drugs all day and taking advantage of people I love and then screwing them over. I feel like someone or something with higher power wants me to fall under the category as some delinquent either that or Rock Star. I don’t know for sure.

One thing I do know is that it’s been really buggy around since Rock died. It’s like they were all living off of him and now that he’s dead they’re angry. At least that’s how I’m running it in my head. That’s another thing. Rock is dead and I guess I’m not torn up about it as much as I was with Hank. Maybe it was the way Rock would bark at Sunny and Hank whenever he wanted all of the attention. Maybe it was the fact that he kicked Sunny off of the patio so that only he could sleep there. Sunny ended up dying on the drive way while Rock got to die in the comfortable patio…plus he lived longer than both of them. I’ll admit that Rock reminded me of people who hated me.

On his last day he seemed to make himself more apparent to me than he usually did. His last day was probably the most time we paid attention to him in a long time. It was a Thursday and I had just finished uploading a Game Analyzer. When I came home, there was a stray dog whom I’ve never seen before just hanging around Rock. They were both at Hank’s grave. I talk to my dogs often so I asked Rock “who is this guy?”. Rock gave me a look that said “He’s a friend”. It appeared that they were both paying their respects to Hank. Rock usually barks at any animal that comes into our yard, but this small shaggy dog was an exception. Rock and I followed the little shaggy dog around. Shaggy was clumsy and would bump into walls while Rock and I were amused…or at least I was. Our fun ended abruptly when Shaggy suddenly stormed off out of the gate and to the house across the street. He had a collar so he wasn’t a stray. I went inside while Rock seemed to walk back towards Hank’s grave. Anthony then came over and we talked about things and brainstormed song ideas. I needed someone to talk to that day because I was getting torn up about not getting the job at Costco.

The last time I saw Rock was when I was giving him water. He didn’t seem to get up to drink it…as if he had trouble moving…but he was moving earlier in the day. Mom gave him that left over steak and some cheese. I jogged for a good our and he seemed fine afterwards. Chris came home late and found Rock was dead. Just dead as if he just decided to die.

Mom mentioned he was laying at the old Scoot’s grave and Chris mentioned he saw Rock sitting at Sonny’s grave. I saw him at Hank’s grave. I’m sure he knew what death was. He witnessed all of them being buried. With Hank he saw everything. He saw Hank completely messed up and missing a jaw. Then he saw us lift him to the truck and take him to the vet. Rock then saw us come back with Hank’s body. Then he watched us bury him. He saw someone who used to move around lay completely still.

When Rock died, it was a bit too late for us to bury him. Even so, we could have used a car’s bright lights to bury him…but Dad seemed to just not want to do it. In fact, it seemed like no one wanted to bury Rock. That bugged me…so I told Chris that we’d wake up early and bury him ourselves. Dad wanted us to wait for him to get home to bury him, but I wasn’t having that. Chris and I did just that. Rock smelled pretty bad by then and he was stiff. His body all clumped together because we’d stuck him in a wheel barrow overnight. He always seemed uncomfortable throughout his life ever since he got ran over…I wish he would’ve looked comfortable while he laid there on those blankets.

Rock’s dead now…and I guess I don’t really talk about him in the journals…but he’s been around ever since I was in middleschool. I always attached myself to Hank and talked to Hank more…but many of the times Rock was there to listening to what I had to say…Ah…now I’m sad. They were always both happy to see me, and after Hank died I pretty much neglected Rock and would only pay attention to him when I fed him or gave him water. I remember just after U of H screwed me, I would go outside and study with them…talking to them more. It was like the time I used to come home early before high school. I used to come home before everyone else and just hang outside with Rock Hank and Sunny. Sometimes I’d talk to Hank and play guitar while the three of them would often listen.

It was sad. Rock seemed like he was ready to go though. I guess if I were in his shoes, I’d feel alone too after Hank. They had each other, and even though they would fight, they’d go on adventures with each other sometimes. Now that Hank was gone Rock was usually always by himself. It’s seemed lonely…but like I said before, Rock reminded me of the people who hate me…so often I would find it hard to sympathize with him. Now that they’re all gone I guess I can’t relive those times where I was home alone for a brief hour with the three of them.

Before Hank died, I was talking to him more often than before. I just remembered now that I even cried to him about U of H. Rock was there too. When I lost Justine and Grandma I talked to them too.  They were always there to never judge me and to just be happy to see me. It didn’t matter if I were right or wrong. Days after I opened up to Hank again, he came home all fucked up…I still remember that look he gave me as if to say “don’t cry” trying to get up and comfort me. He didn’t realize that he was the reason I was crying. I remember yelling at Rock that day because I thought Rock did that to him…but it would be impossible. I don’t think I even mentioned that detail…I didn’t mention a lot of details about Hank’s death…because It really tore me apart…

After we buried Hank I remember sitting in front of it with Rock next to me crying…man I’ve cried so much these past few months and now it seems like the tears just never stop coming. I keep telling myself that I’m alright and that not getting the job is “okay” and that losing Rock “eh…it’s okay it was his time to go”…but I’m not alright. I’m worse than I’ve ever been. I think about suicide constantly…while I’m eating, while I’m running, and while I’m even playing with my band. I even write about it constantly.

I miss Grandma, I miss Rock, I miss Hank, I miss Sunny, I miss being happy, I miss gratitude, I miss being respected, I miss…it all. Why is everything disappearing? Why aren’t the tides turning?

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