Today, I am bitter.

I feel a combination of betrayed, disappointed, anger, sadness and inadequacy. I just stop fighting with my mother, whom has dellusions about Bravejournal giving her viruses and whom cannot prononce "mitasanstar". Since early 2003, I've had this online journal and never had problems from my native computer that I can blame it on. It doesn't work that way. Webshosts want you to use thier services, not poison your computers (albeit, it is one tactic that some downloading sites use, but quite doubtful from Bravejournal.) She heeds me to delete the journal. I'm not really a sentimental person, but I do have problems with deleting three years worth of entries; a number nearing the 200 mark. All this during a very sumptuous chocolate cake. And as I've previously stated, stress robs me of any and all apetite. So, poot to that.

Earlier, I got this far-fetched notion that taking my sketchbook outside would be wise. Um, no. Even in a wife beater, I was dripping in sweat. Sitting in heat that only festered my failed attempts for a job...Cursing mentally, I took a long way home. I found myself at the front of my neighborhood. Desperately, I wanted to scream. Instead, I skimmed through Roy and played "Infected" by DJ Irene. I ran about half-way home to physically work out my frusterations. I discovered that running with a 14''x30'' sketchpad is not easy... I didn't stop even after my thighs were throbbing and the rod in my back wriggled excruciatingly.

It's just...Roughly 9% of animators are female. They're paid less than men, whom already menially paid. Is it sexism? Maybe not, because the majority of female animators suck. Shotty art, storylines dripping with estrogen...Despite the fact that my style of art is far more masculine than it is feminine, (yes, art comes in seperate genders, too.) along with my plots and let's even add that I'm a gifted artist and writer; all of this still puts me at a disadvantage. (And of course, I'm too goddamned moral to exploit my gender. Fuck me and my proper and polite upbringing...) Another problem is that I'm at complete odd-ends about the industry. Working at a video gaming store would be the perfect way to learn...learn about the people, the products, marketing...all the things I'm only faintly acquainted with. I even had an inside helper that could get me in guarenteed. And what do I do? I...ugh...I...UGH! IFUCKINGFUCKEDEVERYTHINGUPFORMYSELF!!!11

AAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!!!11111111111111111

I do this CONSTANTLY; I want something really badly, I do all I that I know how to get it, and somehow, in some crazy way, my efforts turn around and bite me in the ass. I am my own walking, friggin' plague.

And now, thanks to me, a friend of mine is taking my job. Because I'm a complete imbecile, and because I can't bring myself too...because I... *screams again*

I don't know why I keep going after the things I really want in life anymore. This is my third huge failure, this year. The third thing I really wanted, something I fought for. I never fight for anything, and it's like whenever something counts or will make a positive impact in my life, I try but I just can't...

It's making me dislike myself. Just a smidge, not by much, I guess...because it's questionable just how much power I have over everything. I just...forget it. I'm drawing a picture now. At least I know that there are somethings in life I can count on.