Late Night Nonsense

I’m just waiting for my computer to interrupt me one more

fucking time.

Go ahead computer. Make my day.

…Okay. I think its done trying to piss me off now. I think it

finally gave me permission to write.

Here I am, trying to write a fricking entry and popup after

popup keeps appearing. “Oh hey I updated” — “Oh hey

something crashed” — “I’m a fucking douche Operating

System” — “Say are you trying to type an entry?”

Fucking Windows.

Kinda upsets me. Ironically I’m taking Operating Systems

class this month and the whole purpose of an Operating

System is to ease the use of hardware. But this one’s just

about another popup or two away from getting thrown out the

window.

I’m a nice guy, but I have high expectations out of my

computers, and this one knows how to press my buttons.

I’m going to try to start this entry over again. After I calm down

for a few minutes.

*ahem*

Hello ladies (and Michael),

I figured I would try something new today. I noticed that I

always think of things that I find deep and meaningful while

I’m lying in bed at night, about to sleep, so I figured I’d use my

laptop while I’m laying down.

It’s actually nice really. I could get use to this.

Its too bad my mood really was kind of spoiled by the crap

this computer gave me earlier. I don’t think anything

meaningful can really come out of this entry now. Piece of

crap computer.

I can’t stand silence. I really can’t. I swear to you it makes this horrible sound. And its not electronics either. I could unplug everything in this apartment and it would still have this horrible ringing sound. I hope that when I am dead I wont be able to hear that sound. It’s so overwhelming and terrible.

I’m so sad and lonely. I hate everything so much. And I’m starting to get retardedly emotional. Over everything. I feel guilt for every bad thing I’ve done in my lifetime.

I even feel bad for all the meat I’ve eaten in my life. Because meat comes from animals, and animals feel pain. So now I feel terrible for eating meat. What the shit is that? I don’t like veggies so I don’t plan on quitting eating meat, but I feel terrible for it all the same.

Actually I did sort of buy CHEESE pizzas because of this. Not pepperoni.

That should be a gasp moment above. I always eat pepperoni.

I realize this entry is probably stupid and non-consequential to you readers, but this is my diary. And its really an emotional diary. As I never talk about the events (like I even have any) in my life.

So this entry is just me feeling guilty and sad and confused and angry and all that.

I keep phasing in and out of paranoia at night. Some nights I do so good I can sleep without nightmares and without white-noise generators and without a weapon, and then other nights it’s the total reverse.

Recently I’ve been in the overly paranoid phase. Sleeping with my little flashlight, gerber-knife, white-noise generator.. Waking up from nightmares. Sometimes silly ones and other times there’s probably some sort of symbolism there. I don’t really know. I wish brains just texted you in your sleep.

Imagine having a dream that simply had Marquee text that said “YOU NEED TO GET OUT MORE… LOVE, BRAIN.”

Instead of some terrible death scene that somehow is a metaphor. Fuck metaphors.

Although technically it’s impossible to read in a dream, but I’m a nerd like that…

And why of all things to be paranoid about, is my closet like the #1 threat? Its silly and illogical to believe that in the middle of the night, somebody could break into my room (deadbolt lock) and then go into my closet and hide there.

But I will seriously wake up and be 110% convinced that someone is in my closet. And I end up either quietly crying and trying not to move, or grabbing my knife and ambushing my clothes.

And so far every time, there has never been someone in my closet.

Other times I’ll go check the door downstairs to make sure it’s locked. Unlock the door, open it, shut it, lock it, and pull on it to verify it’s locked.

It’s a terrible feeling, being afraid that somebody is hiding from you, or trying to hurt you, or is after you.

I always feel like I’m being watched and I fucking hate it sometimes. Its God. I know it is. He’s watching me all the time. You’d think an Omniscient Omnipotent Bastard would have better things to do. But He watches me anyways and it creeps me out sometimes.

WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?!?!?

I had a nightmare involving spiders a couple of nights ago.

I *hate* spiders. I hate them so much. They’re so disgusting. I can’t help but have to kill them on sight when I see them. I’m so scared of them. I feel so bad too because they can’t help that they’re ugly, or that they walk all creepy like, or that they suck the guts out of things… Creepy bastards. They can’t help that they’re communists…

I hate spiders. Lord of the Rings Sam had the fight of the century against a giant spider. So did Norman from Mighty Max (And Norman has arachnophobia too). And Tanis Half-Elven. Giant spiders are evil and need to die. I only hope that I can be half that brave were I to ever face a giant spider.

I hate feeling so lonely and I hate feeling so sad but I never know what I can do about it. And I *hate* women so much right now. I fucking hate them. I always see a pattern in them. Or at least I’m convinced there’s a pattern there. I almost “get” them. Almost.

I need to deal with this. Swear them off, take a vow of celibacy. Devote myself to God. Go live in the spider-free woods as a hermit.

I’m just not fully ready to be alone forever. Not quite yet. Getting there. But not just yet. Celibacy sure. I can handle that. I don’t get any anyways. What’s the rest of my life? Ha. But alone? No emotional attachment? I’m just not ready for that.

Not to mention I’m the last Riggs of my family. The family name shares my fate.

I have a giant forehead and I hate it. Its not really giant though… I’m just bald and thus my forehead is more exposed. People think I keep my hair short but the truth of the matter is it just doesn’t grow anymore.

Instead the hair is too busy growing everywhere else. I’m so hairy all over I have fur. I’m furry. It sucks. Everywhere but the head.

It seems like life is nothing but major obstacle after major obstacle. There’s never really going to be a point in my life where absolutely nothing bad is going on. There’s always going to be something bothering me, for me to write about and complain about. Humans are so… whiney.

~Bruce