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Giuseppe Zangara

Let's be sincere and non-self-referential

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I've just come to the realization that I hate change. More bad always seems to come out of it than good.

Known it since I was a little kid. Cried when we painted the family room paneling white and replaced the green shag with white berber. Cried when we moved. So on. I have an inordinate fear of change, especially permanent changes. That's why I can never get a tattoo.

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It's been a noticeable trend in my life, but this is the first time I've come to such a clear realization. I was upset a few years ago when my family had to move from our first home, despite the fact we were only moving a block away. I was not looking forward to leaving New York City and starting the dorm life whatsoever. And I've been depressed for the past few days since finding out a close friend is moving to Connecticut a week from today.

 

Change is naturally bad.

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I NEED change in my life.

 

I can't stay in the same place for more than a few months. That is why I am at three different places in a year; home, school and working at a church camp.

 

That is why I can never go abroad for school.

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It's been a noticeable trend in my life, but this is the first time I've come to such a clear realization. I was upset a few years ago when my family had to move from our first home, despite the fact we were only moving a block away. I was not looking forward to leaving New York City and starting the dorm life whatsoever. And I've been depressed for the past few days since finding out a close friend is moving to Connecticut a week from today.

 

Change is naturally bad.

I, too, fear change. Perhaps it is because so many years of my life have been spent facing difficult hardships, so much time spent dealing with one personal crisis after another. There are few happy moments in my existence, few instances when I can look upon my life and reflect upon moments of joy instead of sorrow. And so, I fear change, because I am afraid that with it, I will lose forever those fleeting moments of hope and felicity that bring a temporary delight into my ordinarily dreary existence.

 

Oh dear - I'm afraid I've become maudlin for times past. Where was I?

 

And I've been depressed for the past few days since finding out a close friend is moving to Connecticut a week from today.

 

What, are you gonna CRY about it?

 

Pussy.

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I've found that my own personal feelings about change tend to mean jack shit, as changes occur whether I want them to or not. At about the same frequency, too, no matter if I'm actively crusading to bring about change or desperately hiding in an attempt to avoid it.

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The other day, my girlfriend mentioned getting me something nice for my birthday. Which is nine months from now.

 

She may well have meant birthing me a child, but probably not. Still, that she sees us still together by the end of the year put a fright into me, which I've yet to shake.

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Just grind up a couple "morning after" pills and slip 'em into her drink, that oughta take care of things.

 

Stop killing people

I actually seem to have done just that, for the moment anyway. No horrors or tragedies to report over the past couple of weeks. And as far as I know I have no connections whatsoever to the Schiavo woman or those school shootings. So either my streak has ended, or I'm just the latest target of the old "let the long-term torture victim think that their pain is over for a while but then suddenly start it again and then their sanity snaps like Sid Eudy's leg at Sin 2000" trick.

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I've had problems with change as well. Back in the summer before 8th grade (1997), my family moved from the only house I had ever lived in, located in Springfield, Illinois, to one in Rochester, Illinois. It was a 20 minute drive back to Springfield, so I could still see my friends and family, but I couldn't just walk to their homes like before. The biggest change, though, was switching from a private Christian school, the only one I had ever attended, to a new public school. It took me 2 years to adjust to that.

 

There were also several times during high school when my family seriously discussed moving to Arizona or another state due to my stepdad's managerial job. I was scared to death of leaving what I knew even though so many things were going wrong. This even continued after high school when my parents were going to move to California in early 2004. I came here for a month, went back to Illinois, and then moved back to Cali. Despite my fears, moving out here was the best thing to happen to me in a while.

 

I have a love/hate relationship with change. Often, it scares me. I keep a small group of close friends, and it's hard to leave them. i become comfortable with my routine and don't wish to disrupt it. At the same time, however, I grow bored and desire to leave and start a new life elsewhere, full of excitement.

 

This still plagues me. I'm done with Illinois, but I can't decided whether to stay in SoCal, where the weather's great and all my dreams could come true, or settle down in a similar climate with a lower cost of living (and lower potential for success in my chosen field), such as my dad's area on Mississippi's Gulf Coast. I'm a nice midwestern gentleman, and I can relate to downhome southern hospitality. However, things aren't so great between me and my dad, so maybe that wouldn't work.

 

I still don't know what I want to do with my life. I can't bank on a musical career to earn me money. I change my mind as it pertains to what I want to do long-term very often.

 

I also miss high school for some reason despite the fact that I was a fat, acne riddled loser back then. I guess I really just want to relive those days looking better as I do now, with the knowledge I possess now. I also have a strong passion for learning in a structured environment and I'd like to bang the high school girls I missed out on during 3/4 of my HS years.

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Why do I care so much about people with whom I have no consistent relationship anymore?

 

I still harbor feelings and attachments to old girlfriends that often arise when I am reminded of them or they are briefly mentioned. I also think a lot about people I haven't spoken to in months or years.

 

I even get upset when it comes to my sister's friends whith whom I've only spent a menial amount of time with.

 

My sister's friend, Abby, died in a car accident during her senior year of high school in November 2003. I had only hung out with Abby a few times at my house and a party. Although I spent a fair amount of time with her on those select few dates and even flirted with her/considered hooking up with her, I certainly didn't know her well enough to be attached.

 

However, at the 2004 graduation ceremony, which I attended since I had friends in that class, I cried when they had a moment of silence in her memory.

 

Now my sister's friend Mallory, to whom I was much closer than Abby and even kissed a few times (I had a pretty strong interest in Mal despite the fact that I only saw her maybe once a week, but nothing else ever happened) was told a couple months ago that she had malignant tumor on her cervix, but it could be removed.

 

Now, however, even after that has been removed, it has been discovered that the cancer has spread, partly due to complications arising from her diabetes. (Yes, she's diabetic, too).

 

So now Mallory faces a potentially fatal illness at age 17 (her birthday is August 1st), threatening to rob her of her life. She's a genuinely wonderful person with a bright smile and good heart. Still, I barely know her compared to how my sister knows her, and I seem to be more torn up about the whole ordeal (and my sister is crushed).

 

It kind of puts things in perspective, though. In the last couple years, I've gone through some horrible emotional and physical issues which affected me very strongly. But Mal, God bless her, is in good spirits in the face of death. I admire that girl so much.

 

Sorry, I'll stop ranting now. It's just good to let it all out. I hope you don't mind.

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I'm currently trying to convince a depressed ex-girlfriend that she isn't a bad person and that the failures of her previous relationships don't necessarily dictate the outcomes of her future ones. Needless to say, it's a wee bit frustrating. Damn my non-calloused heart for still giving a shit about my exes. (Well, most of them. If that one bitch was beheaded by terrorists tomorrow I wouldn't shed a tear.)

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I'm pissed off that the ultimate edition Rambo dvds added a handful of new features and left off a ton of good stuff from the old special editions. I'm NOT buying both, fuckers.

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Guest Fire and Knives

I find humanity disgusting. I realize that I am human. This has confused me for some time.

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Pay someone to kill others.

 

Pay said someone to kill yourself.

 

Problem solved.

 

If you are short on cash I'm sure a crackhead would do it for about $50.

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Guest Fire and Knives

It's a possibility.

 

You were right about that Peccatum, too, by the way. I'm still listening to it.

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Guest Fire and Knives

Also, the friend's girlfriend broke up with him and is now with me, but I've already grown bored with her.

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