Not so much a poem...but the demons need to spew

My life sucks.
Ok, maybe not compared to a lot of people's lives
but it still fucking sucks

it's unfair of me to make the following comparisons but fuck it all this is MY demon
this is MY space
and if you don't like it
LEAVE.

know what? I had a bunch of stuff written out and I deleted it.
know why? Cos it's stupid.
everyone has their shit to deal with.
everyone feels like this from time to time

but seriously? my life has sucked more than is measurable.
it sucks more than a starving infant at it's mothers breast
being two strides from first place, only to cramp up
it sucks more than a Humboldt squid sucks onto it's writhing prey

30 years alive and breathing
1980 - 1988ish : can't remember much of crappy, but then I was a kid, oblivious to the world outside my dollhouse and puppy dog

1989 - 1991 : the coming of the realisation that my life was not 'normal' - my family, my home, my world was significantly skewed.

1992 : my world spun out, careened into the galaxy and crashed somewhere past Orion's Belt

1992 - 1996 the wonder years of teen angst. I spent mine seeking solace in something that may or may not exist, but even if it does...i dunno how much work he's really putting into his project

1996 - 1999 : realised slowly but surely the hypocrisy of what i had spent so long devoting myself to. felt lost all over again,

2000 - 2006 : oh the downward spiral - not just a NIN album. Had some great times, but they were counterbalanced and sometimes tipped way out of reach by the bad shit.

2007 : my life spins out, quietly but quickly. taped myself up with life's cello tape, and put on a brave new face. then life said "Hah. Right. Not so fast there, Missy. Here's a BIG OL' CHRISTMAS GIFT FROM UNCLE OVARIAN TUMOR! Let's open it to see if it's CANCER!! WOO!!!" Thankfully Life decided to spare me the Big C, but it was NOT the kind of xmas gift you want anyway.

2008 - 2009 : no huge medical issues, but lord (see years 1992-99) knows the financial troubles of being on disability and making 3/4 of what 'poverty line' is set at means i have virtually no life, and my newest clothing item is a pair of PJs bought for $16 at Wal*Mart, that I only bought cos I needed a 'costume' for hallowe'en....ah yes, the cop-out "baby" costume.

2010 has just started and lucky me - I have a GALLBLADDER infection!! Yippee! More surgery! But I get to WAIT this time, because the damn thing is too big and infected to remove safely, but not big and infected enough to warrant emergency surgery, so what happens? I get to go on a week of IV antibiotic treatment! Me and my uber thin, blow-out veins! A normal IV is lucky to last about a day in me. Toss in shit loads of hardcore drugs? BLOW OUT PARTY!! Yes, I had not one, not two, not three, not four...but FIVE!! FIVE GLORIOUS STABS OF HOLLOW TUBES SHOVED INTO MY SKIN!!! Oh, and the first antibiotic they tried? Turns out, I'm allergic. Yup, oh the glorious feeling of that wonderful find! Almost as wonderful as when they opened a tomb in Egypt thinking they found a 2nd Tut haul, but when the wall came down it was the last resting place of ancient Egypt's chamber pot museum. Shit from Khafre to Cleopatra.

Think that was it? HELL NO. Two weeks after being discharged (still waiting for surgery) I land myself back in there. Four IVs this time 'round. Two attempts that didn't make it. The last two blow outs are still giving me problems...ohyaymaybetheyareinfectedheylet'sgowaitatthewalkinclinicforhourstofindout!!

Fuck.

Seriously.

Life? I'm sick of your shit. I can't walk away from you (ok, technically I guess I *could* but i am NOT LETTING YOU WIN THAT WAY) so let's call a truce, mkay? You quit fucking with me, and I'll....uh...fuck I don't know. Just stop fucking with me, please?

If someone gave me a box with a big red button and said "Your life can be normal - no more medical shit, no more personal life bull, just nice and normal....all you have to do is push this button. The catch is, though, if you push it someone, somewhere in the world will die. You won't know who they are, but your pushing of that button will cause them to die" - fuck yah I'd push it.

The 90minutes of my chick flick life is almost up. Where's my happily ever after?