Sanity low, hopelessness high...

I am going to take the next week to try and figure out my fate. Basically going to try and start the college app process despite the massive setbacks I'm still facing (no working phone number, no bank account, no health card and etc.) so I can at least have something I can feel is progression in life.

I may also be
- working on dice roller; with some suggestions from Kraken I am taking a slightly different and hopefully easier approach. But it also requires some AJAX... ewww. (And why does the name 'AJAX' even exist? I mean, AJAX = DHTML, pretty much.)
- putting up Paypal donation button. Money is needed. :(
- considering buying webspace based in Canada and actually starting up a low-pay web hosting service.
- playing Atlantica (Aemris @ Macedon server) and RPoL games when taking a break from work/responsibilities.

I had this thought late last night about looking into some of my old writings. As I've probably said before on one incarnation of my site or another, I've saved my writing from 4th grade (9-10 years old, I think?) onward. Most of it before I started using the web is written on journals rather than typed out or put online.

I look back at them now and then, I guess partly to remind myself how far I've come as a writer, and a person. Holding those old journals in my hand is like looking at a relic. I mean that was 19 years ago, when I wrote the first one. Nearly an entire decade has passed.

This time, though, I was looking for something in particular. I was thinking about...

[TMI warning: Themes of abuse, graphic descriptions of sexually demeaning fantasies, etc. The really graphic parts are labeled.]

It's raining outside...
storming actually.

I started my period. I haven't even packed yet. =_=

I ended up caught in some sort of depressive phase before I went to bed because sis was talking to me about... a certain member of my family, and I just...

...

The Golden Suicides - a Vanity Fair article I read last night before bed.

I happened upon it while googling a tangentially related topic (namely my interest in reading about people both formerly and currently in Scientology). The subject of the article are a close-knit artist and multimedia-producing couple that committed suicide within a week of one another a couple months ago.

I have to confess as to not recognizing either of their names, but their story as related by the article's author had such an inexplicable sorrow to it that, for the moment, entranced me as I read. The author was convinced this was a beautiful and talented couple deeply in love that had a lot going for them, at least until Hollywood frustrations and paranoia (apparently believing Scientology was spying on them, though the CoS has denied it) turned them gradually more unstable.

[Insert usual "I do not condone suicide" message here. I know I'm a hypocrite. But as much as I talk of death, I do not want to see anyone else so far gone that suicide is the only answer. I want to see others get help, even if I can't.]

Well, my sis couldn't make it today. Not because she was sick, but because the plane had mechanical problems. I'm glad she didn't take off on that plane. o.O But she couldn't get another flight today... so we're picking her up tomorrow, at the same time.

I'm realizing that I find it a little bit lonely, talking about my own problems. I think I scare people off, or they don't know what to say. I wish sometimes that other people could talk to me the way I talk to them when they're upset. I mean, I got plenty of helpful comments when the immigration stuff was happening. But when I feel the way I do now, where I feel this utter despair at the state of my life and the worthlessness of my being... people just... clam up.