Why does everyone think I hate them all of a sudden ???

The last 2 weeks or so have been some of the longest, most hellish shit I've had to put up with in a long time.

I haven't been on aim or talking to most of you because I've been trying to sort my own shit out lol.

I've got people jumping down my throat for whatever reason they feel I'm fucking up with on one side, and on the other side I've had to deal with 2 deaths. Give me a break please, yeah?

I'm not mad at any of you, I'm not ignoring any of you, I'm not even that mad or depressed or anything

I've just been busy that's all relax. We're not losing friendships or w/e you think is going on, all of you just relax lol. We'll be back and doing w/e the fuck it is we do soon

Heh

I just realized I only write on here when I'm mad or upset

I wonder if I would write on here if I was ever happy about something...

God Damn

Today was the first decent day I've actually had in so long, that lunch was so delicious god damn

You know, I don't know who reads this, I just hear from people here and there about it, but here goes this anyway. I'm not entirely sure what's up with me. There isn't a single thing that apparently I can do right, or can be done right for me.

Yesterday, I figured "hey I'll donate blood, it's for a cause that's good right?" ....Right? So I sat there for an hour just waiting. Got into the little booth, got my finger pricked, answered a bunch of questions, talked to some guy about it, signed my life away, etc etc. Pretty much S.O.P. So I sit down, she iodines me, and pokes me with the needle to take blood. Now I've said it about a dozen times, but for anyone who hasn't heard me....you know that feeling when you go to get blood drawn, how it hurts for like maybe 3-5 seconds then it all just goes away? That stabbing feeling NEVER left my arm the 10 minutes I was sitting on that miserable fuck of a table. And that stupid twat of a phlebotomist (think that's how you spell it) said this to me, "Hm...it's going pretty slow, have you been drinking a lot of water" "Yes I drink a gallon a day" "Oh wow....let's just see here" I wasn't sure of what she was going to do, but I felt her wiggle it around...yep she wiggled the needle, a sharp, metal needle, while it was IN MY GOD DAMN ARM. Well you know what happens when you do shit like that? Dumb cunt managed to pierce the OTHER side of my vein, and the blood proceeded to stop flowing. And she sat there dumbfounded, wondering why her fruitful efforts were all in vain (hehe). Hm it couldn't be that all of the blood that WOULD be flowing into the fucking bag is now flowing INTO MY ARM could it? Fucking shit was disgusting and scary as fuck. I'm not exaggerating this when I say it looked like a fucking baseball was stuck under my arm. At this point the bitch is telling me to, "oh just relax this isn't that big of a problem" FUCK YOU YES IT IS WHEN YOU FUCK UP AND BLOOD IS BEGINNING TO FLOW INTO A GIANT LUMP IN MY ARM YOU STUPID WHORE.

Hey Red Cross, SUCK ON MY NUTS. You want blood? Get real fucking people to do it, not these asshole trainees you consider able to do it. Fuck you and everything you do. I refuse to ever donate blood again because of you dumbasses. At first, when someone told me that a real red cross center would produce better results, I was about to believe them, then I realized Oxford didn't hire these people, Red Cross SENT THEM OUT. Yeah fuck you guys, worthless pieces of shit. I hope the stupid cunt gets fired

Now honestly is it too much to ask for something/someone/anything nice? Is it really? Yeah I don't say what I want to who/whatever I need to, yes I'm more or less indecisive, yes there are things I should do, or should say, or should attempt to do,but why does everything rest on MY shoulders? Why do I have to fix MYSELF all the time? I'm tired of having to deal with myself, can't I just get a break? Can't I just get someone to tell me something I'd want to hear? Can't I get someone to help me out? Can't I get someone to be the one who tells people what to do? Can't I get someone that just...helps me?

Here's another example, we had work to do and present in gov today. Kim took the first paragraph and started writing, while I sat there and found myself one to write up. Meanwhile Ryan and Eric are just sitting there chatting away, while we need to get some fucking work done. Instead of just pissing around, I just went "Ok ryan read this, eric read this" while I get a sarcastic "yes sir mr.sir" fucking comment from ryan. What the fuck? You dumbasses aren't doing shit and then get mad at me when I tell you to work? Fuck that. I'm not going to take stupid backtalk like that when it comes to work. I can be that person who drives people to do shit, I've always done it, but I'm tired of it. I'm fucking tired of telling people what to do, and how to act. A lot of you should just know how to function on your own, you're seniors for fucks sake, learn to take initiave.

Man, there isn't much I really want anymore. I don't even know what I do want anymore. Well that's a lie actually, I guess I just waited too long, or did I? Did I waste time? Did I miss an opportunity through this fogged glass I consider life? Did I miss a message? Was there never anything to not miss? I don't know. I know nothing anymore.

Can I just get a break, and someone to explain life to me again? I feel like everything has flown right by me and I'm fucked because I can't even help myself. Why does it even have to be me in the first place...?

Please? Is it too much to ask for...whatever it is anymore? Sigh, fuck senior year, fuck oxford, fuck this im taking my anger out on something else

Where did I go wrong?

I don't know if I'm just unlucky, or nothing is ever meant to be. Just thinking in retrospect, I would like to think I could tell my past self "Hey Taylor, don't sweat it, just let it go", but I don't know if I could do that. I think I know what I did wrong, or what I didn't right would be a better saying, but it still hurts the same.

Come on you, let it go...but I don't, I just pull myself through more and more self inflicted shit.

I don't even know if I care about what people think anymore, I've been asking people what I should do for like...the last year or so. And I've got "Oh let it go taylor" to "Just do it faggot" And the worst part is? I've been in the middle since the very beginning. I don't want to lose anything, that would be worse than where am I now, but I don't know how much longer I should even put myself through unneeded nonsense. But is it unneeded? aaaaaaaagggggghhhhhhhh

I just want something that I guess I can't have

Oh well, back to my boring life and the last quarters of my highschool career. Let's just say hooray for 18 years of nothing special Taylor! Hooray!

Why do I bother?

What can I say?

Let's Tarantino this shit

Oxford is a pile of shit.

Now we back track!



God damn...where to begin where to begin. Just for the sake of order, I'm going to start with our Senior Portfolios. I don't even know what to say at this point, just "really? that's why?" We have to have them done early because of "the stress of post AP tests"? Haha. More like they want us to do it early while we're still conscious while we attend Oxford. But no, admins, don't make them due when we're not doing something irrelevant, let's make them due DURING YOUR GOD DAMN FINALS WEEK. Yeah we "should have" been working on them the whole time or something, but fucking puh-lease, does ANYONE actually expect us to work on them as a work in progress over a long period of time. Don't even try to play that off. I'm not sure I can identify a single person (that I know) that didn't wait until last week to start working on these.

And then beyond that, Seniors regularly "Embarass" Oxford staff and others by performing below their standards. L O GOD DAMN L. Does any honestly care about these projects, really? Can you look me in the eyes and tell me you feel for this project (And don't play Devil's Advocate or I'm not even going to talk to you, no really fuck off). WHAT IS THE POINT OF THIS. Let's reflect, on shitty reflections we're forced to do for points, half of them are even modified by teachers to be slightly comical to make us do them. I remember....7th grade I think it was, when these were optional, and no one did them, you know what got people to fucking do them? The fact that if they didn't they would lose out on a grade in some class. I remember that's why my PE grade died in 9th grade because I didn't give a FUCK.

So let's take a look at this from far away. We have a project we're forced to do or some random grade in some random class is dropped. We have to give a speech on some topics we don't really want to do. We have to do it almost 5 months earlier than any other seniors in Oxford's history. And we have to do it "well", and not make Oxford look bad. This is definitely a wonderful recipe, I'm glad we have the staff that we do!

And you know what let's talk about our staff, specifically Hoshi. WHAT THE FUCK? Today Zack got ripped off from the vending machine a dollar or so (whatever his thing cost) and he went and told Gibb about it, and she said no, while Hoshi overheard and said he could get his dollar back.(something to that extend) Ok, cool he got his dollar back, but WHAT THE HELL. The vending machines have been "at your own risk" for years, and everytime I've ever asked anyone for my money back, I'm more or less just laughed off. So we have a biased staff that just feels like refunding some and not refunding others, that's fucking wonderful. Does that mean I can just go up to Hoshi and be like "Yeah over the last 6 years that machine has ate $10 of mine, can I just have it back" No, of course I can't. He'll just be like no get out of here.

Also let's take a glance and something we call a dress code. I know people who have gotten saturday school's for wearing a jacket that's slightly out of dress code, pants slightly too short, the wrong shade of fucking khaki making it more green than khaki (or something to that color), and people who have had numerous things they own just be confiscated, all with detention or Saturday schools. But we have a student who hasn't worn a polo in over 2 years, and I know a few others who regularly don't wear proper "Oxford" attire. So now we enforce a policy of "if you can get away with it, go ahead!" then? Wonderful too!

And finally, Hodges. You are absolutely out of your god damn mind. I ran it over in my head over and over, and I'm still lost in everything. You know damn well we need 25-35 minutes to write an essay, yet you have the audacity to create a test in which if done correctly, you barely have 15 minutes left. And how do you have the same audacity to look at your class, and say, with just under 10 minutes left "Make sure you write your essay" you've lost your fucking mind. There's no way in hell you will ever be able to prove that test was "fair" (Also if you're going to bitch that life isn't fair, again get out, I'm not here to argue trivial shit)

Thanks a lot Oxford, for being "2nd in the nation" you sure as fuck prove it with your wonderful administration, rules, and teachers. Thanks a lot for wasting my time and my grades

edit: Please comment

87th Birthday

Now, if you made it to your 87th birthday, how would you feel? Tired? Complete? Amazed that you lived that long, thinking of all the dumbshit you've done? Or just happy to be around your family (hopefully), knowing you've lived that long? All in assumption by this point in your life, hopefully you could just enjoy yourself.

Today was a real eye opener for me.

Today I went to the hospital, to visit a family friend of my dad's for over...god at least 20 years, his best friend's dad, Paul Christensen, (Yes, if you've met Paul he was named after his dad, and I think his dad too). It's been a rough couple years for him. 2006 I believe, he had two or three strokes, and in 2007 he broke his hip on the way to the bathroom. Ever since then I think he's had a total of 5 strokes (2 large 3 small) and a full hip replacement. And now he's in the hospital (very recently, like the last 2 weeks) for a disease that really hits home with me in particular, Pneumonia...Fuck. That. Shit. No one should have to go through any of the same shit I did. I don't even think I could wish it upon my worst enemy to suffer the same shit I did. I still have nightmares over it, and get lost over it sometimes...enough about that though.

I wasn't sure what to think when I was going to see him. Then I walked into the room.

Oh my god, is this what I looked like? A dozen tubes coming out of me. On a respirator (forces you to breathe). And just looking all sorts of hell. This man is one of the most resilient mother fuckers I've ever seen in my life. I walked in and he grabbed my hand so hard I thought he was going to crush it. I was fucking amazed. I wish I could be even half as strong as him when I hit that age. Then it hit me, the table has completely turned over 6 years. 6 years ago this man was standing on the other side of the bed wishing it was him instead of me in that bed, strong as a fucking ox even though. I looked over my friend Paul, to see him crying. Him, crying? It blew my fucking mind. He's one of the manliest men I've ever met in my life, he's always strong and macho about everything he does. And seeing his father in this state, he couldn't even hold it in. And he stood there apologizing, about how he has to be strong for him, no matter what the circumstances. And he genuinely felt bad for showing a sign of "weakness" for his father...

I never really understood why everyone never wanted to come to the hospital to come see me, it kind of hurt for a while actually, but I got over it. But coming to this...god I can't blame anyone. The hospital is a fucked up heartless place. Walking through the ICU, where I spent 3/4 of my own time in, it felt like I was walking through a living cemetery. I mean I've seen some fucked up shit in the ICU. I mean when you're in there, conscious, you can't really do anything besides look forward at all the other fucked up people in front of you. I watched a father break down into hysterics and vomit as his 2 year year old son died of brain damage in front of him, from Shaken Baby syndrome. I watched another kid, maybe my age, go into fucking cardiac arrest in the bed next to me....I was just talking to him moments before then bam. I don't even know what happened to him because I was moved out of ICU a few hours later.

Fuck the hospital and fuck illnesses, and fuck all of the pain they bring. I hope that if I ever turn 87, that I just die instead of watching others come in and feel bad that I'm such a terrible state.

But this man is fighting for his live, no matter what. He probably doesn't even have that much time left, and he's still fighting on. He even understands his chances, and he doesn't give a flying fuck. It's down right astounding that a man this strong exists. I honestly hope I can end up half the man he was. Fight on man, fight on.

This whole event put some other emotions of mine within perspective. If it weren't for this I probably would've called a few people up really confused and mad about some shit I've been trying to do, yet I've been getting ignored. But I'm not going to bitch about that right now, there are far worse things than my own troubles for now.

Wow, fuck you guy on Gmail

Where's the line drawn that defines what a kid is? Is it pre puberty? Is it before you're 18? Are you a kid until the day you turn 18? Is it until you graduate college? What the fuck is it and why are you on your fucking high horse to tell me what the fuck I am you fucking tool. Because you've been in college for the last couple years, this suddenly turns you into a god among men? Why the fuck aren't you a kid and I am? Where do you get this sudden self realization of yourself? Holy shit you're just adding to my overall frustration god damnit.

So many people I need to tell things to, some more important, some just trivial, some very, very changing. But I guess I just fail and I'll never do anything I wish I could or would.

Come 5 more weeks, let's look at 18 years in and the list of things Taylor has not done!

A list that I talk about sometimes with some of you. Some of you know the things I haven't done in the about 18 years of my life, and I'm always told "Oh don't worry Taylor, you're time will come" or "Oh don't worry wanting (something) isn't that big of a deal, you'll find the right (something) eventually"

I'm tired of eventually god damnit. What did I do to have to miss every single train stop? Why am I put on the backburner? Why do I get overlooked and ignored whenever something happens. I hate fucking complaining about shit but...god damn when do I get a break?

I'm tired of life, I'm gonna go read for Hodges and forget about my problems. Fuck this