I drive around a lot. Having time to myself is a rare occurrence. Mid day I meet my boyfriend and we drive across the city in our cars to his house. I realize that other than my trip to the dog park in the wee hours or the morning I had nothing notable that crossed my mind or happened to write about. Writing is a very important daily routine. To not write is to feel lacking accomplishments. Mental records are also nice, especially at this point in my life. As the night carries on, my thoughts grow darker. Each hour brings more anxiety. I sit in this chair not stoned, not drunk but sober. That's how I usually spent my nights. Sober nights leave my mental state melancholy. I have heard that our true selves come out at night and I very much disagree with that. Upon my studies of human emotion, me being the object of study, I have not been able to gain any sense of emotion itself. My latest theory is working itself in circles; Breaking down emotions into to extreme categories. Happiness and Anger. Now I can tell you all about anger effortlessly, I could go on and on about it. Happiness though is still foreign to me. I get certain ideas of what it could be but the dominant emotion presses in with pessimism. Anger is all I've ever known, all that I've ever learned from, all that has saved me from vulnerability. Of course basing one's life off of anger is simply not the best way, aware I am. Out of my twenty one years, nine months, three days, nine hours, forty three minutes and however many seconds of living I still am unable to find myself peacefully co existing in my environment. I am told those things come in time and that I am rushing youth (this is the part where I acknowledge my melancholy state of mind) but the only way I find myself peacefully coexisting with the world and not constantly retreating into my self is stoned. Unlike your idea of a stoner, which I am not, it brings me out of this cold stone manner of thinking and into a world of possibilities and enlightenment. It acts like aderol would, giving me the ability to clean houses without being brought down by worry or doubt. Unlike most people who shy away from people in a stoned state (which I am when I'm sober) I can walk strike up a conversation with just about anyone who doesn't give me a awkward look. Alcohol is less and less appealing as time goes on. I got a good taste of that before I turned twenty one. Now I just see how it just brings out the absolute worst in people, including myself. Liquid courage is not at all good because if you're not ready to say it sober you will be unprepared for the reaction you get especially if your issue is drinking right along side you. The hang over of course is the cherry at the top of the Sunday and if not the hang over then the severe serotonin depletion in your body (me anyways). Drinking in moderation is all good and I am completely open to the possibility that it is the people that I'm surrounded by. I have been told many times in my life that I must have been put here as a punishment because I have never fit in with anyone around here. To many tourists Portland is a beautiful city and right across the bridge is the Maine Mall in South Portland, where I grew up. Yes, in the summer it is beautiful and people do not stay long enough to see the creatures that inhabit it's large apartment complexes and roam the coastal streets at night. Adults that never came out of high school and children who never had role models. All the smart people lived in unreachable residential area's like Cape Elizabeth, Falmouth, Yarmouth. A tax bracket unreachable by a single mother working a minimum wage job in the city, for good reason I would assume. From scum to politically correct the divide is so clear to see, money filters out the unintelligent and ugly creating perfection and greed. Of course a community college could boost your opportunities, get a degree in something thousands of other people are getting. Unemployment is still on the rise and suddenly the United states is recovering its debts without renewing jobs! Oh silly government, what will you think of next? In my first entry I stated that humans were evil. Of course my expectations are great, because unfortunately we have taken over the entire planet. However to give up my expectations of human beings and just accept that we're all sub primal species that can predict our own death and make fire is to give up hope on humanity itself. Erm. Maybe starting from the dead bottom in life and the slow incline from low lower class to low class then maybe within the next couple years make it to middle class and continue to fight to give my daughter what I never have. I am told I'm just like my father, impatient. I see the mountain and I'm ready to climb to the top in one day. Though my daughter slows me down in my accomplishments it gives me a new meaning on life and she gives me the hope and courage I need to keep fighting against the tide. Where I would be now without her is not up for discussion. Despite all the negativity and discouraging context she is my life jacket and the only true happiness I will ever know. The first thing that comes to my mind when I think of Anger currently is jealously, then suspicion then doubt, fear, anxiety, paranoia then back to the teeth clenching anger. When I think of happiness I think of a scenario so far-fetched and so far from my current state I begin to believe that it is a fairy tale. I've also considered the notion that I am ungrateful. I have a beautiful daughter, the best dog in the world, the best cat in the world, a car that I own, a consistent and reliable job that I am skilled in but don't have enough hours to maintain expenses, a very intelligent boyfriend who says he loves me, a moderate intelligence about myself given the upbringing and an apartment I can't afford with bills that are beyond not being able to afford that are in fact piling up as I write. Boo hoo right? Isn't that what the majority of the population is going through right now? I mean hell I have a roof a, a car, some people are outside cold right now sucking down the last bit of whiskey so they can forget about their hellish predicament and how their fingers are numb just in time to pass out in a nice little ally way. Their kids taken away by the state because they were unable to properly care for them, their animals brought to a shelter where they can be re homed and brought back six months to a year later. 1 out of 3. One out of every three pets stays in a home for its entire life. Which brings me to the point of thinking how much better this night would have been if I had smoked a little, watched some British movies, and passed out just in time for the credits to roll around. My eyes dart around the well lit room. The heat is almost unbearable, fuming out of two computers, a laptop and a giant flat screen TV mounted on my boyfriends wall. Beneath it is the bed where the result of too quickly consumed Svedka rests to be uneasily awoken in the morning. Like I said; Melancholy. So tomorrow when I wake up and boredom takes me back to my laptop I'll look this hostile entry with a raised eyebrow and a long drawn sign from my cheeks. I can't wait to see the snow.