Pitch Magic Marker I dyed my hair again

I dyed my hair earlier today. I went with black but I left a strip of the old. Just so I can show that I'm still me.  I went out to pay on my storage unit today. It seemed to go normal. I stopped at the Arvest bank that is in Dewey just in case. I had the cash left over so we went by the Dollar General Store that is in that town. I needed soap.
I really do not have anything to say.  I am sick and tired of people telling me that I should wait to get my life back because they want to dick around some more with their stupid employees. It is not my fault that they want to play Russian Roulette with my life. Find a new pig. Hell they have enough whores to go around.
I am sick of this.
Let them all go to jail.
I am human and I should be treated like a human.
I do not have to eat off of a silver platter but I am not going to eat out of the dirt.
Here are pictures to prove my hair is officially dyed.

And the wind outside is walking through your window

Does it take less time to yell then to just try?
Who knows?
CAUSE I doubt anyone takes the time to count the seconds when they live their life.

I went out today to apply for an apartment.  I keep hitting the walls with this. This time almost sounded like he was being honest.
He was okay I guess.
I am not a happy person.
It is not because I suffer from Depression.
That is a sideline to a bad paragraph that I have never edited. 
I doubt I'll ever get around to finding a cure for that.

I am not a smoker.
Now I smoke sometimes.
I know it is bad.
I do not feel well.
I do not like the way I feel.
No I will not kill myself.

The day only brought on a new reason to not speak again.
I have no reason to talk to them.
They are assholes anyway.
I do not care.
They look for reasons to make me apologize for something that I never did.
What were you thinking?
I think now what I thought then, you are an asshole.
Write that down and shit on it.

The play list for today would read like a good menu.
1. A boat lies waiting by David Gilmour 
2. Patients by GNR
3. Come Undone by Placebo
4. Sometimes by Depeche Mode
5. Dear Agony by Breaking Benjamin
6. Land of Confusion by Genesis
7. Red Rain by Peter Gabriel 
8. This Celluloid Dream by AFI
9. No Sleep Till Brooklyn by Beastie Boys
10. UnHook The Stars by Cyndi Lauper
11. Victim of Circumstance by Joan Jett
12. No need to argue by The Cranberries
13. Harvester of Sorrow by Metallica
14. Working Class Hero by John Lennon

If I wanted to dedicate a poem to the day that I keep having it'd be;
Tragedy by JS

If this was a picture, it'd be a red balloon handed to a kid with razors for fingers. Happy fucking Thanksgiving.
I am thankful to God in heaven.
But ON THIS SHIT HOLE EARTH, 
I am NOT thankful for a damn thing.
So fuck em all.

Hatred in the shad of pitch

I never stopped caring.
I never learned how so many let it go.
I'm sorry to the parts that are hollowed and broken.
And know that nothing will fill this void.
Not now and not tomorrow.
It takes more then I what I have to forget.
So I push every moment in front of me.
Spoon full of medication.
Squinted eyes.
And I still feel it when I close my eyes.
That is me there.
This is me now.
The same.
But less willing.
by ME Jessica A Singleton

Someone asked me if I cared the other day.
Do I care about the issues that do not revolve around my head?
How could I not.
I just don't think that there is a reason to talk to the people who did this.
They do not care.
They are covering it up.
So Why should I tell them if it hurts.
This happened almost 10 years ago.
Now you bring it up once, I've had time to heal.
It is not over and it is not fair.
What can I say?
You are the problem.
You caused the problems.
You stitched it all together.
You did this in vain.
You are to blame.
But you force it upon me.
Then you mock and black mail me with nothing.
Literally.
I have to get out of bed.
I have to clean myself.
I have to eat.
Then when I do not deal with the struggles of this.
I have a set of lungs too.
I have to breathe.
And you act like because you wanted to violate me now, that I should stop my life to talk to you about the past.
I don't have much of a future.
I don't have much of a present.
I live on other people's needs.
I have no one to turn to.
No one cares and if they do, they sure do not know how to make me feel that.
I feel alone not lonely.
How do you think it feels.????
I really do not think I want to make anymore time for you.
You 've taken up enough of my time.
P.S. I took another pregnancy test the other night.  The results are that I am not pregnant.
I got some boots with feathers.

Scars of Yesterday a short story by me Jessica A Singleton

Broken down sitting at your feet,
I know you'll see me down cause
there is not a moment when you're not watching me.
I have little respect for you.
You might notice this and it pisses you off more.
And I cannot take much more, so I blink and breathe in and then out.
Then I apologize for your mistakes.
I take it all on likes its mine alone.
Thats about how it will end to.
I know someday you'll find your own time is wasted and gone, but until
eternity finally wakes up, then I all I have is the scars of yesterday.
They wrap themselves around me.
Taking away any part of me that is still visible.
So I look like a giant road map.
Am I left without the ones that I loved forever?
I know the answer to that leaves me looking the other way.
All I have left is the scars of yesterday.



There is a lamp that has been burning bright since 3 AM.  That is when the insomnia kicked in.  I thought at that hour, a bathroom break and a sip of water would relax whatever part of me wanted to go to wake up.
The witching hour is the moment when the doors open from this world to the next.  But like the unsettled spirits of the world, I was up for good.
I did not find rest.
I even tried breathing exercises.  No luck there either.
What I did find though was a box full of pictures that made me remember yesterday.  Everything that I thought that I'd put away.
Every life is a life.
The moment it begins to breathe on its own.
No life should weigh less then any other one.
I read a magazine and I counted the socks in my sock drawer.
Alone is silent but it is familiar.
It is weird to be around anyone for longer then it takes to say hello.
No one was ever there.
But I promised myself that I would get past this and someday it would be fixed.
I hate most of Hollywood.
Watching movies does not please me the way it once did.
Now I just want to avoid anything that reminds me of yesterday.
But once I awoke, I got a call and I got into a new apartment building.
I have no idea why that helped but it did.
I got so lucky.
Then I got my life back.
I never had problems sleeping again.
I was not treated like dog meat either.
The End

Chinese character in line a poem by me

I have no idea if I want to blog all the bad stuff in life. It is not the time. All I will do is use the F word.

So I will write something that is from a good part of me.


I do not know what to say.
It is kind of early.
Not because it does not mean anything.
and not because I do not feel anything.
I do not want to wake up someday and realize that it is gone.
I keep making myself forget you.
I am so afraid that I'll just bother you.
Mostly because all I do is linger around you.
I do not mean to.
I don't get to keep anything.
It has always been taken from me.
Plus I can see the rarity of what I found.
It is not on sale.
And no one has had a chance to see it yet.
I'm one person and I'm so broken and paranoid that even if you did not run away,
I'd wear you down with time.
Like a wind up toy given that runs out of time from wear and tare and someone growing out of it.
I don't mean to sound like I need to be patronized or bandaged.
This is not your fault or your job.
If you could see all the chips in the glass and all the glitter on the ground, then
you probably would not think about how pathetic that this sounds.
I just almost met you.
and I'm sorry that I did not meet you before.
Maybe you could have seen me all brand new.
You're shiny and you feel perfectly around all my cracks and scars.
You don't bother me and you don't hurt me.
You seem to interest me.
and I think that if you ever wanted to , with the way that I already feel, you could break me in so many pieces that I'd never be on a shelf again.