Introductory.. to my introduction of ranting.

I've thought about doing something like this for a long time... (years and years).. Every time I thought about it, I'd never make it past the introduction, so I just gave up. Im not a writer or a poet, and I do not have any education in that area, so there will be all sorts of typos. Grammatical and literary fears are the hidden motives behind them for the most part. I used to write on an almost daily basis. The journals were all hand written, probably 20 years' worth... than i moved, and lost them to a storage unit. I tried to get them back but apparently the person who bought the storage unit really liked my writing because they said that they werent in there when i asked the manager to get my journals and pictures, after all who would want soneone elses rantings and pictures? "I'm sorry, sir, he said that there weren't any journals or pictures in there." I'm thinking "thats funny. They were the things in there besides a bed, dresser and a hamper of dirty clothes. " I know that the common thought is "Why did you leave them?" ..I ask myself that every day... literally every day. Looking back, I thought it was going to be some miraculous life changing experience. Which turned into a two week trip, one of which was spent in a mental hospital, if i would have been getting high at that point it probably would have been shorter and i wouldnt be attempting to write this right now. Thinking rationally... I dont know why the fuck I even thought that. Because life starting over in Arizona failed twice at that point, but I was fresh off of a suicide attempt (who fails at that?... ) I try to tell myself I just wanted to stop hurting, which still hasnt happened. If anything it has increased and turned into something i do not posess the words to discribe. So, here I am, sitting at a single person desk-like-thing alone in Arizona for the .... what...? 4th time now. And, yet- it hasnt gotten any easier or better. "Yet".. I keep acting like there is some sort of hope, but everything except death has happened. I dont know where this glimmer of hope is hiding) I've been here for a year this time and for 9 months I was homeless, like sleeping a tent homeless but thats a story for another time. So far (and im very grateful). The only thing that has changed is that I've gone from homeless to my own apartment. Still sad, still alone, a.nd still very lost in the world. I can't help but to think "am I the only one this lost? Is everyone else in the world really that happy? " because I can't even fake a smile or pretend to be happy. People have to know im lying when they ask ficticiously ask "How are you?" I stand there in utter awe, "I'm great thanks for asking". I know its the polite thing to do, but we can save the pleasantries when they are legitimately meaningless. It'll speed up a conversation that neither of us what to have. You dont want to talk to me and i dont want to confuse myself pretending that you do. It confuses the shit out of me sometimes. It's amazing ... the abilty I have to lie to myself about pretending someone actually cares about me. After this last year, im not even sure I'll ever be able to even trust anyone again.

So I believe I've lost the introduction part. "Hi, my name is Bruce, and im not a writer, so I apologize in advance for the fucked up writing form and lack of punctuation... and spelling. My life is not a fairytale full of cupcakes and rainbows. In that dark and terrorizing place between a nightmare and horror story where you lay, paralyzed-curled in a ball to lost and afraid to do anything. Im sorry i did not post a pictue with the time and date. I dont get along with the image learking back at me. I took the mirror off the wall because i fear what i may do if i catch a glimpse with the reflection. But i assure you the picture on my profile is me, i mean if i was going to pretend to be someone i would definitely pick someone orher than my face. The other 3 in the picture are my two younger brothers Jimmy and Steven and my dad James.

Any questions, comments, or concerns. Im great at being criticized. I ... also enjoy sitting and sleeping alone.

That last part is a lie, but i would enjoy hearing any thoughts if amyone would like to share. Thanks for reading. I'll try to keep writing.