I’m not stoked about everyone always wanting to make music with me. Like, I’m grateful that people want to work with me. But I just have zero motivation to write lately. Maybe once work starts again and I get my shit sorted out this will change. Who knows. I’m drunk rambling. Whatevs.
P.S. Fucking tired of having feelings. It’s not cool the way this noms at my head all night. I’ll get over it. It’d just be helpful if it were easier.
My father passed away a little over 8 years ago. Still to this day, I don’t really know how he died. But from time to time, I remember being woken up by my mom saying that I had to go to the hospital with her. I was 14, I had no idea why. I remember walking through the the doors of the Brockton Hospital and being escorted by a paramedic to a room. Both my sisters and my niece are crying. Again, me being 14, I didn’t really understand what this all meant. I clearly knew it wasn’t good. So my niece takes me to the room where my father was laying. My brother was standing there just bawling his eyes out. I finally realized what’s happening. I try to fight this memory all the time. There is nothing that brings me to tears faster than closing my eyes and remembering from when I woke up to when I came home and my step dad not having a clue what to say to me. In mid 2011, I got a call from my sister saying that my brother passed away. Just a few months ago I got a call saying that my great niece got hit by a car down the street from where I was working.
It’s safe to say that I fight being upset far more than I’d like. I fight thoughts every day. Anything in a movie about a dad being sick or dying, I pretty much breakdown. I don’t even know why I’m saying all of this. I’ve never really told anyone this. So here I am telling a couple hundred people who probably don’t give a shit. Which is fine, I don’t expect anyone to care about my fight. But maybe if I get this out of my head, it won’t eat at me as much as it does.
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So, I got my new camera earlier today. Merry Late-Christmas to me!
(Source: justinjcarberry)
And I need to seriously figure out what the fuck is wrong with me. By that, I mean that I should just be honest about what the fuck is wrong with me. Maybe tomorrow. Haha.
No one I know is interesting enough. Aside from maybe one friend, no one has any motivation to do anything.
(Source: justinjcarberry)
Firstly, Hance is a great singer. So this isn’t about him.
(Source: justinjcarberry)
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Hello new Myspace. You might be worth using for the first time ever. If only I could figure out how…
(Source: justinjcarberry)
I’ve had this same dream at least two other times, and every time I wake up scared shitless.
(Source: justinjcarberry)
I don’t really mean that in a negative way. It’s just that they are more complicated than trying to play the last levels of Portal 2 shit faced. (Yeah, that reference is accurate.) I don’t understand this. We could be perfect for each other, and there will be an invisible wall of feelings suppression. WHY!? Is it because we have a lot in common? Would that make the relationship dull? What if it’s amazing? Hell, how would I know. Every girl I date is the polar opposite of myself, and almost everyone I meet has at least one deal breaker. I shouldn’t be so picky for someone who isn’t made of perfection.
(Source: justinjcarberry)
I saw some posts on Facebook on my way home from work about a little girl that had been hit by a truck. I thought to myself “Well, that’s sad.” and kept scrolling. I see sad shit on Facebook all the time, why was this any different? A few hours pass and I get a call from this guy that’s a mutual friend, he’s asking for my nephews number. I’m clearly oblivious to what’s going on and he figured that out right away. He asked if I had heard about Shayla and then immediately follows that with “The girl from the accident early.” My heart has never sunk so low. I just kind of sat there with a new message to my nephew open for a good 2 hours. I couldn’t stomach calling him. I could barely get the energy to text him. I’m still just kind of floored by it all. What do you say to a guy who just lost his 3 year old daughter? “I’m sorry” seems so meaningless at that point. How do you stomach turning on the TV and seeing the scene and hearing reports say “This is a tragic breaking story”… All you can think is “That’s my family, these people are talking about someone that I love.” How can someone handle so much sadness?
You were a crazy little girl who always managed to make me laugh my ass off by pissing off your father. To say you’ll be missed would be an understatement. We love you.
(Source: justinjcarberry)
