Instead Of A Cryptic Entry in Hello

How about you just unload for once.

Here we go…

I don’t hate my physical science class, at least not yet anyway. I’m trying to keep an open mind about these things and really, it has only been one chter but I’m already starting to feel in way over my head with this class, its concepts, and the instructor herself.

I’m too much of a coward to raise my hand when she turns to the class and asks any questions. I have tsayed over atl east twice now just for a question or tow in which the lesson still makes no fucking sense. Google has been better…

I really hate Eric now.
Badly.
It’s to the point now that I try not to talk to the fucking guy.

Today I asked him how his days off went and he mentioned that he went to see Seth over the holiday. Mentioned that Seth is pretty much doing the same thing we are with the machining stuff however he works six days a week and says there is really nothing much to do when you’re reduced to one day off because you want to rest. I mentioned about the 4:30 to 1:30 on Saturdays saying that usually by the time I got off I was too tired to do anything. Then of course he has to bring up, “Well, you could come in at 6:30 to 3:30.”

“Yeah, but Tyrone follows me on Saturdays when he comes in at one” (also, I really hate typing on a fucking laptop WITH A PASSION!)

This is funnier in my head with the accent I give this “He can run another machine. It’s a co op, you make your own hours.”
For clarification this is the same rich prick asshole I wrote about a few entries back.

I sat there thinking…how did we go to my over generalization about six days a week when/if I do OT like Seth to arguing/debating this out about what time to come in for OT?

Every conversation ends up like this. We’ll be talking about something and one thing gets said or done or whatever and it ends up with him shutting me off after we get so off topic. I hate him so fucking much now…I wanna grab the back of his head and just start ramming it into the nearest surface repeatedly screaming, “SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU GOD DAMN ASSHOLE!” over and over again till what was his face remains a bloody pulp of broken bone and split flesh in my hands.

I’m so frustrated with everything right now that it becomes all I can think about. These violent fantasies keep playing out in my head. I don’t know if I’m just seeking attention now with this or not but it is definitely stacking up again. I’ve been thinking of alcohol again. I’m starting to miss it…that’s dangerous to say.

And then…at the same time…I keep having thoughts of suicide in a very public place…

Cry for attention…

Enjoy the typos, I don’t care enough about this diary or whateverthehellyoucallit anymore to even bother fixing anything…

Last updated September 02, 2014