CAT PRINCE @eddyotic - Tumblr Blog

I don’t know why I’m back here. Maybe it’s because I’ve tried reaching out to the people I can depend on when problems arise and none of them could get a hold of me. Maybe I just hate myself. All I know is I have nowhere else to go and keeping this inside of my head will only drive me to insanity.

I’m done. I know I’ve said this about this blog, but honestly I have never been more over the idea of people and human beings than ever before. I firmly believe there is nothing good for me here anymore that it’s not healthy living here. At all. Everywhere I go I get angry. Every time I get into my car and see little reminders I want to break anything that I can. I want to drive 100 miles an hour straight into a fucking wall and maybe then I’ll get some release. I’ve never been like this, and I thought the toxicity in my past being left behind would help me become a better person. I was always told that one person can’t make me happy, but hopefully I’ll find someone that genuinely can. I thought I did. Feelings were real. I was a cunt to someone who was a cunt to me, and I’ve been told all my life to never fight fire with fire. Karma is real and it came for me hard.

I know I’m not a good person. I haven’t had time to go back to how I used to be. I never was this overly angry person, I was always forgiving and allowed take backs. The me I am now is spiteful. The me I am now seeks revenge instead of answers. The me now is someone so disgusting that I don’t know who I am anymore. I look at myself in the mirror and I’m disgusted at what I see. It all came back to bite me in the ass and I should have seen it coming. I knew what I was getting myself into way before what happened happened. I didn’t care. I cared about the happiness I was feeling because for the longest time I didn’t know what it was.

Everything seems like a blur now. Even in this drunken stupor I’m sure I’ll regret in the morning I can’t feel. Being intoxicated can give you an extreme of emotions, it doesn’t matter what. I’ve seen all of the extremes: sadness, anger, happiness. Yet I feel nothing. I feel numb. I know I’m intoxicated because I feel it, but I did it to calm myself down. When anything terribly wrong goes on, I shake uncontrollably, as if you were getting random chills except they don’t stop and I continue to shake. My breathing gets heavy and deep and I want to scream, cry, shout, something. But I can’t. I took three shots, cracked open my pack of stoges and just walked. I walked for an hour and have 3 cigarettes left. I’m not shaking anymore, but I don’t feel like crying. I don’t feel like laughing for nothing. I don’t feel like punching a wall. I just. Feel. Nothing.

You win. Of all the things that I did wrong, you came out on top and I’m now left with nothing. Congratulations. You can post about it on your social media and revel in your winnings. You earned it. I deserve it.

Life, the future, and the conclusion of this blog.

It’s been a while. Going back through all my posts here, it’s been basically the last 10 years of my life documented through shit memes and shit times. A lot has happened, but I’ve been at peace with it for months now. Some people choose to purposely be malicious and paint me as such a horrible person. I don’t deny that I’m not an asshole, but at the same time others can’t fess up and accept their flaws, too. Making public spectacles, having people text me saying “so I heard blah blah blah”, constantly bringing my name up in social media. It’s all for nothing. You know how frustrating it is to have people send you unsolicited screen shots of public posts talking shit about me from people I don't even talk to? Pretty annoying. Getting into situations to try and get a response from me or people I’m associated with is such a sad thing to try to do. Seeing this form of self-destruction in a person happen right in front of my eyes shows to me that people never change, and shitty people deserve each other. In any case, that’s why I’m moving to Portland by August, maybe even June. The Bay Area harbors too many fucking losers who constantly won’t butt out of my life or feel the need to ask me about things that I don’t care about. California can have these lame excuses for people, I’m peacing the fuck out. I’m glad I’m doing it with you. The last good thing that came out of this shithole was meeting you. I’m glad we have something not made of spite, but of actual, non-infatuated feelings. I won’t miss California, and I don’t know when I’ll be back. Until then, I’ll just have to anxiously wait for the day we leave. Fuck you, California and everyone in it. Rot in hell. This is my last post. Thanks for following. Keep up on Snapchat: Prentas , or Instagram: eddyspaggeddy

paprikavaseline

a hundred tiny daydreams about you

Breathe out, so I can breathe you in and hold you in.

Not the time or the place. Someday. Maybe. Just not today.

Out.

#hiatus: indefinitely

sandandglass

Clocks and Ceilings

Have you ever stared at a clock and wondered why it seems like the big hand never seems to move? You see the second hand going full circle every 60 seconds, but somehow the clock is frozen in time. Seconds feel like days. Minutes feel like months. Hours, years. The concept of time becomes so warped when you’re depressed. You desperately try to sleep, and it feels like you got a full night’s rest when you eventually do. But when you wake up, you realize it’s only been 30 minutes.

I really should fix my clock.

You stare at the ceiling. The bumpy texture of it reminiscent of those Magic Eye books that revealed a hidden picture if you went cross-eyed and stared at it for a long time. You try to make out what the image was supposed to be, but you know it’s going to be nothing. Your eyes just feel anchored to your face, begging to be closed. But you can’t.

You try to write this stupid post on a social medium that doesn’t even resonate with you anymore, but you can’t help but find a place to beat your keyboard to vent. It takes you 10 minutes because you can’t remember your password to log in, and you just slam on the keys the 40 different versions of your anniversary that you submitted in the password reset form when you forgot the previous one, hoping one of them is right. You give up.

41.

#writing #personal

Day 3: Curse. I'm a little late, but I haven't slept yet so it's still day 3. Curse of Exhaustion was a curse in WoW that always intrigued me on how it looked like since it would slow you down. @keely.elle #keelysinktober #inktober #inktober2016

#inktober #keelysinktober #inktober2016

@keely.elle 's #keelysinktober Day 2: Constellations. I was actually looking up constellations not long ago, but Orion was a pretty cool dude. I had no idea to personify it, so I decided to just ink my page black and use my silver paint pen. See where I fucked up? Yeah, so do I. #inktober #inktober2016

#inktober #keelysinktober #inktober2016

@keely.elle 's #inktober #inktober2016 #keelysinktober Day 1: Tarot Card. My favorite one by far. Trust your intuition and resolve any conflicts or issues. It also says to harness the creative energy that comes from la lune in the form of art. Funny that I chose this at random, yet was the most relevant one for me.

#inktober #keelysinktober #inktober2016

#inktober #inktober2016 #inktober2go Day 1: Fast. To be honest, I haven't drawn shit in forever. The challenge of inktober in itself is completing the whole thing, which is one of the main focuses I'll have this month. My interpretation of fast is live fast and die young, something snow loves by for a lot of people.

#inktober #inktober2016 #inktober2go