I think he fucks with you on purpose.
I'm just a Angel and stuff but it's just a hunch.


Jesus?

Yeah

That's what I've been trying to tell people since I was like, 9.

When i was nine i was pretty sure he was outside my bedroom window holding a lantern so i wouldn't be scared.
Just so i had a nightlight

Yeah, well, while he was there I was getting raped by my father. So.
Now I know where he was.

And this is when i wish i could hug you.
Really tight
Till your eyeballs popped out.
That pretty much smacked me in the face.

Sorry...

I never got hit as a kid but i had to watch my stepdad beat my siblings and watch them suffer.
I'd just cry under my blankets.

Mhm...

That's the only time i will go under blankets...if i am crying
Other than that i feel like i can't breathe
I have problems.

I think if God exists, it's not for everyone.
He only decides to help certain people.

And that's why you mock him?

I don't mock him.

you tell me prayer doesn't work either.
Or when i've heard you say, Fuck you God!
I guess it is out of anger.
And hurt.

Prayer doesn't work.
Thats not mocking.
That's just fact.
And when I say Fuck you god, it's literally taunting whatever being is in power - or if nothing is in power, then just back luck and fate.
Neil Garces
2:47pm
Neil Garces

Angelique Bracone
2:49pm
Angelique Bracone
Fuckin' Neil
Neil Garces
2:50pm
Neil Garces
I just made that.
Makes it easier to see what I'm seeing.
Angelique Bracone
2:54pm
Angelique Bracone
Verbatim to thought.
Angelique Bracone
2:54pm
Angelique Bracone

Neil Garces
2:54pm
Neil Garces
Well it makes sense, right?
(and you're unfairly beautiful)
Angelique Bracone
2:55pm
Angelique Bracone
You're crazy
There's prettier girls out there.
Neil Garces
2:57pm
Neil Garces
Naturally beautiful? Not many.
On a night out, maybe 40% of women can be considered "attractive". And by that I mean simply not-unattractive.
Take that 40% and remove their make up.
You're instantly down to maybe 10%.
Now take that 10% and put them in a normal setting like a bedroom or just walking outside, and in normal clothes.
Down to maybe 3%.
You're in that 3%.
And that's not including personality and character.
You take that 3% of girls that can be beautiful without make up and in regular clothes... and add in the probability that that're nice, generous and unselfish souls?
You're in the 0.5%
Angelique Bracone
3:06pm
Angelique Bracone
Thanks for the breakdown. Lol
Neil Garces
3:09pm
Neil Garces
Sorry. Just how I think of things.
Angelique Bracone
3:10pm
Angelique Bracone
No need to say sorry silly
Neil Garces
3:15pm
Neil Garces
but does that prayer chart make sense?
Angelique Bracone
3:54pm
Angelique Bracone
What if you're just praying' and nothing bad happened. Your just talking to God. Like hey, what's up?
I guess it kinda does but idk....i pray not only when bad things happen but when good things happen as well.
But i understand what you're saying too.
i guess that's why we each have our own free will to believe what we think.
And should God exist only he can judge us on how lived our lives.
There is no right or wrong answer.
and i am sure when and if there is a heaven and we get there he'll have minute after minutes of questions from every single person.
Simple just a..why?
Angelique Bracone
4:08pm
Angelique Bracone
I'm sure you have a list of questions, just like i do.
Neil Garces
4:09pm
Neil Garces
99% of all prayers are things like, "Dear God, keep ______ safe, please help ________, and cure _________ of cancer, and protect ___________."
Those are all things that are asking God to change his plan.
Most prayers aren't, "Hey God. What's up? Man today sucked. Anyway. Thanks for listening."
Even when you watch sports, every athlete and fan is praying to God for a certain outcome.
It's all pointless.
Now, that isn't to say that there isn't a God. There could be. But by the very definition of who he is, when we pray and ask him of something, it make no sense.
It's not an opinion.
It's a fact.
Praying for change or help does not work.
Let's say you pray for something to happen. And someone else prays for the opposite. Only ONE of those can come true.
So what does that mean for the other person? They didn't pray hard enough? They weren't Christian enough? God doesn't care as much about that person?
No. What's ALWAYS said is that God works in mysterious ways we can't understand and has a greater plan.
Okay then.
So why pray!??!
You just admitted that he's going to do what he's going to do regardless.
He has his own plan.
So whether or not you believe in God - it doesn't matter. Prayer doesn't work.
If someone shoots a gun at me and I pray I don't get hit, it doesn't matter. I'm going to get hit. You know how many people have died praying they wouldn't?
How many people on the Titanic were praying to God as they drown in the sea?
Probably all of them.
They died anyway.
Why? Either A.) there is no God, or B.) God decided they should die.
Either way, prayer didn't do a damn thing.
It's very basic first grade logic.
Now, if you just want to pray - as you said - to vent. Or share how your feeling... kind of like a mental diary... that make sense.
But then, you're not praying so much as mentally working out your life as anyone else would. The only difference is that other people work it out themselves, and you believe you're talking to a spirit.
They're both the same behavior with the same intention.
Writing a blog, writing a song, thinking about it before you go to bed, venting to God... it's all the same thing.
So.
Yeah. It's not mocking God. It's showcasing logic.
Neil Garces
4:26pm
Neil Garces
get it?
Angelique Bracone
4:29pm
Angelique Bracone
Mhm...now tell me the difference between girls & women.
Neil Garces
4:30pm
Neil Garces
Boob size.
Angelique Bracone
4:30pm
Angelique Bracone
Lol
Sent from Mobile
Choose an emoticon

I bet you already know what you're going to be for Halloween.

I want you to know that you hurt me.

That you have forced me - out of sheer abandonment - to let you go a total of four times now.

It hasn't been easy.

For whatever reason - chalk it up to what your dad did to your mom, what that Don guy did to you, how cold Rit was to you, that Tucker Max book you read, to maybe even how Nick never "chased you" afterwards to your satisfaction - you see cutting line and running away as a sign of strength. To you, the ability to jump ship and destroy every rear-view mirror is always an option. As if ignoring and abandoning require some sort of courage. Perhaps your life experiences have constantly reinforced the idea that running away is always the best choice.

To me, the opposite has always been true. Never giving up. Never letting cynicism getting the best of you. Always seeing the best possible in people, and putting all the chips on the table, hoping for that one chance at happiness. I see disappearing without a word as the ultimate act of cowardice. That's not how adults treat each other.

Unfortunately, we're both stubborn. Did you know you're actually more emotional than I am? You are. The only difference is that your emotions are so powerful that they paralyze you, while my logic lets mine roam free. Both occur in extremes in the two of us.

I have a bad habit of wanting closure, and, if things must end, have them end civilly. I know how time tends to flatten once vibrant colors and how life tempts you to spin a story in your favor just a little more each time you tell it. And then to do so until it's distilled into a sentence or two followed by a shrug. Context and nuances are lost in exchange for apathy.

I've spent so much goddamn energy trying not to hate you. Trying not to listen to what everyone advises and says about you. Trying to explain to everyone that, despite what your behavior and calls and words and actions may seem like to the casual observer, I know you better than anyone, and that, hey, trust me, I understand her.

But with every day that passes, I grow weary. With every new picture you post, with every new bit of news I hear about you from friends, I know you get further and further away from me and closer to forgetting everything. Every day that passes without a call from you, I know another sunrise and sunset has passed with you having a moment where you get the urge to share something funny with me, think about your phone, sigh, and push it out of your mind. I know because I do the same.

Occasionally I'll feel the pressure to succumb and just... paint you black. Cast you as a terrible villain that did nothing but drag me across a grater for seven months after breaking my heart on my birthday. To flip through my mental flashcards of notes about you that I ended up being completely correct about, much to my chagrin. To see every day that passes in silence from you as affirmation that you really are just a cold-hearted, selfish bitch.

That would be the easy "story" to tell myself.

But I refuse to let that be the story. I refuse that to be true. Even if it might be. It can't just be that simple.

It's exhausting keeping it all in perspective alone. It's exhausting just being alone.

Deep inside of me, I hope. I hope that this is not all that simple for you. A part of me tells myself that there's another layer to you in this; that you haven't intentionally forgotten. That maybe a part of you - between all the guys you're juggling - does still care. Maybe, somewhere out there, you wonder if I'm okay. Or how I'm doing. Maybe that part of me is just as wrong and foolish as the rest of me has been. Maybe it's just a placebo effect for my heart.

I want you to know that you hurt me.

And I'm sorry.
And I'm angry.
And also sad.
And resentful.
But I am appreciative.

"I just wanted you to know."

Collar Correction

I have so much hate in me now.

For many, many reasons, I hate how this world works; I hate what it accepts, and the evil it rewards. I hate what it neglects, and the beauty it ignores. I hate the bad people that get away with bad things, and the good people that die early. I hate how my family treats each other, how they treated me, and how I don't feel connected with any of them. I hate what people do to animals, I hate stupid movies with stupid plots and stupid loopholes, I hate bad music because people love it and I hate good music because I didn't make it. I hate how good intentions don't mean anything. I hate how succeeding and making money, regardless of how it's acquired, redeems someone morally. I hate traffic.

I'm at the point where I hate how much I hate.

But you were my one... good... thing in this world. This place I could go to listen to things and smile and laugh and create a bubble of my own in this chaos. This person I could just be myself with. No strings attached. No preliminary requirements. No hoops to jump through. You were a sanctuary away from all the bile and poison and spite I was surrounded by with everywhere else. You were my blue-eyed oasis; undeservedly so, but I felt it, so I made it. I felt invincible next to you. We were mental twins. No one could take us down when we teamed up. Nothing could hurt us - except each other.

And now, I can feel the hate bleeding through the fabric. It's warming. The beads of resentment pooling to the surface. And all the darkness and pain and fury and loathing... The demon is pressing against the warping steel bars on the door of the cage, howling for a chance to take over this depression.

And I fight it. Sweet Christ, do I fight it. Every minute of every day, a sizzling spark of a thought flies through my mind, searching for the fuse to ignite. And every minute of every day, I quickly think of a thought from the opposite side of the spectrum to snuff it out.

But it's getting harder. More difficult. And with each day that passes without a word from you, seeing you smiling in pictures, hearing from friends about other guys, hearing from colleagues about your new jobs, feeling you packing up, moving away, and knowing you're going about it all so cavalier and guiltless... the slow realization that you're content with how our last conversation ended... that not only do you not worry about how I'm doing, but you don't care...

If there's anything I've learned because of you it's how powerful regret can be. And I'm doing everything I can to make sure I have nothing to look back on and wish I did differently. But you doing things right now you won't  be able to take back. Things I won't be able to forgive. Even down the line. It breaks my heart that you're okay with this.

Holding this anger back is breaking me. Against the advice of everyone - family, friends, teachers, your friends, co-workers, therapists - I refuse to lash out. I won't.

I'm not a monster.

You're just creating one.

But he'll stay on a leash, even if it kills me.

"This guy at school committed suicide a couple of weeks ago."
"How?"
"He jumped off a balcony."
"Well, I guess you could say he took his life... for granite?"
"Wow."
"He understood the gravity of the situation?"
"LOL"
"It wasn't an accident because... cement to do it."
"Holy shit dude."
"Life was a joke and he fell for it."
"Hahahahahaha!"
"That was the last one."
"No it wasn't."
"Okay, no one else was to blame because it was... all asphalt."
"That's it, I'm coming home. These are gold."

Blue Cat Blues