I am not sure as to what I could state in this journal, except the fact that I've lost all motivation to write. I no longer draw, nor sculpt, nor do anything artistic anymore. I used to write a lot; but that was a long while ago. Somehow, I no longer see a point in writing. I neither got into Creative Writing, nor can I seem to register to a bunch of courses I need for my degree... mostly because Craig had failed me in Intro to Principles of Literary Analysis, for "using way too many long words" in an essay (a debate I really no longer want to discuss), and now every English professor who doesn't know me, thinks I'm too stupid for their class. Being a Drama major, I need these third year English courses to complete my degree. Sure, I'm done with all my DRAM requirements, except a few, that I'm taking next term anyway and getting done and over with. But the point is, lately, I've not only been feeling like absolute shiiii-aattt (excuse my French), but I've also been feeling like an utterly undesired failure. Stress has been conquering my life, as has being physically unwell. I know that there are a few people who want me around. However, it still tends to often feel otherwise. My doubts and insecurities seem to return, and I want to murder my emotions again. But it's too late to do it quickly and easily. I've also let them return to at least an extent.

The past few months have been crazy. This has been a very painful summer... nothing like what I'd expected it to be. Hopefully, the next two years will be nothing like the last two.

I ended up going to India for two weeks. It was awful. As I returned, I started isolating myself. I'd decided to stay in my room, till someone asked me to hang out. For most part, no one did for a month or so (except Chelsea, on Friday nights). Then karaoke on Friday nights stopped as well.

I finally got a car.

Violet and I eventually hung out. We went to her house in Grand Manan... on a road trip, in my car. It was a lovely trip.

One of my other friendships got murdered. The good part is that I'm over the hurt, and no longer feel it.

Chelsea and I barely spent time together this summer, as most of her time was spent cleaning.

There was another hell hole that I got into this summer.... with my ex housemate, Jacob. He had subletters. They were nasty little filthy pigs. Awful pigs. They wrecked my house, and I'm angry. I never, ever wish to see Jacob, ever again. Hopefully, after this lease if over, I never will. Things basically going down the drain with him. He somehow decided that it was an excellent idea to be a complete d-bag. Thanks to his subletters, I have none at this point. But here's the deal. My subletter kept urging me to come collect my stuff because he saw Jacob's subletters abusing my belongings. Well. When I got back from the road trip to Grand Manan day before I visited the house, and got the keys, I entered my old house last night to collect my dishwasher. Chelsea was about to help me with it. We entered the house, and I was horrified to see the condition the house was it. It was chaos. It still is. It smells disgusting. Chelsea and I cleaned a bit. She suggested that we take as much of my stuff as we can out of the house and shove it in my car, and fit as much as my car can fit in it, and move it to my new house. As we did that, I was extremely frustrated. I called Jacob, and told him about how chaotic the house was. He came in, and refused to acknowledge that anything is even wrong with the house. He says that he saw nothing wrong with the house, told me off, made excuses for everything. It hurt so much. He even tried blaming everything on my subletter and me. I told Chelsea that I can't do this and that I'm going for a walk and will come back. I ran out without saying another word, and then cried and ran, kept running, running, running as fast as I could, trying to run away from reality, hoping that I would enter another dimension and no longer have to deal with this utter bullshit, somehow hoping that I no longer have to face reality. Sick of dealing with his BS for the whole of last year, and now, even after we aren't living in the same house. I sat on the concrete in the parking lot for a while and then returned and apologize to Chelsea for leaving her alone with him, and his bullshit. We work on moving stuff out. Oh, and we were talking about how terrible the place was the moment we got in. Here's how terrible it was. They had locked a little kitten in Jacob's former bedroom, with adult cat food it can't digest, and water that is full of kitty litter, and murky gunk. The water hadn't been changed in weeks. The kitten wouldn't stop crying. It was a friendly little creature. I felt so bad for it. If cats were allowed in my house, though I don't like pets, I'd adopt it. I don't know to take care of them, but I know at the least that I'd take more care of it than those people were. I could at the least give it love, and nutrition, because this has fucking moved to animal abuse. The room smells. They are growing pot and smoking joints in that room, and have instructions to grow pot in that house. It's illegal activity. The cops were in MY FUCKING HOUSE, because of JACOB'S FUCKED UP SUBLETTERS a few weeks ago, because the whole place smelt of nothing but pot, and it was so strong, that the cops came in, and that's when it died down. But they are still doing those illegal activities in my house. And the cat is locked in that room with pot and tobacco, lots of kitty litter everything, the wrong food, murky water. The have a turtle in the living room and they aren't feeding it, and an iguana living in my kitchen counter. They used my dishes for that shit. My dishes were full of mud, other kinds of soil stuff and gunk. The ones int he cupboard were full of muddy water. I had to sanitize everything in that house. They dented my dishwasher. They broke the inner thing of the fridge. And Jacob tried telling me that my subletter (the one who is perfectly clean and considered my bed not being made messy) did all of it,and that it's all my fault and my subletters' fault and his subletters have done nothing and all this is perfectly acceptable. There was kitty litter is the bathtub, because that is where they are dumping it all. My broom was found wet with gunk in the bathroom, and now I'll have to wash it with bleach and dry it before I can even dream of using it for sweeping my house. They are nasty filthy little assholes, and I don't even know what to, and apparently I am responsible for the apartment as well, though no one had taken my consent when bringing those subletters in. I did not approve of those subletters. I did not even want them there from the filth they were making off of it.

They even took of with the keys. Jacob tried making me pay for their internet and electricity. But now, I've decided that I've had enough. I am no longer putting up with his emotional abuse, and standing up for myself. He is not getting his way anymore. It's been far too long.

Sure, he can be a two faced jackass, and act like a sweetheart in public, and have everyone like him. Personally, I hate him, and I wish I'd never signed that lease with him. Last year was hell. It wouldn't have been as painful, if he wasn't a part of my life. I could have done so much better without him being my housemate, and I wish I'd taken that chance of renting the one bedroom apartment I'd found when searching for a two bedroom one with him.

He blamed me, saying that I had caused more damage to the apartment than his subletters had, because I hadn't cleaned the oven. Violet and I have now righted the wrong, by cleaning it. There's nothing he can say to this now.

He then had the audacity to try making me pay for electricity for last month, when his subletters lived there, and mine did not. He said that they weren't living there. Well. There is no way the bill could have ridden up to $150 in a month, in the summer, if no one lived there. I wasn't living there. My subletter wasn't living there. They have keys. So, who would you think rode the bill up that high? Jacob and my cumulative bill in the dead of winter was never higher than $120. I am not buying that no one living there rode the bill up that high. I refuse to pay.

In addition to that, he had the audacity to tell me "I assure you that there's no pot in the house". I have evidence of there being marijuana in there. And I'm allergic to Marijuana.

I have now decided, that after graduation, I will move farthest out west, somewhere to the North Western territories, where I'll never have to see any of these people again. I'll move away, and never have to see anyone I don't wish to see. Course, I'll still keep in touch with my friends. My friends (my TRUE friends) are wonderful, and very few in number; and I know that they love me enough to keep in touch no matter what. But I am not putting up with these people's BS. They can go to hell. I will disassociate with them completely. I do not need malicious pigs in my life, and am better off without them.

Having stated all these terrible things going on (I haven't even listed the rest), there is a silver line somewhere. I still have those few people I really did trust: Chelsea, Brittney, Violet, Isaac Adams (though Isaac and I don't hang out as much), and I've started bonding with a few others.

I finally have a car. I finally received that work permit. I am paving my path to complete independence soon, and I just can't wait. I can't wait till I finally get a part time fall/winter and full time summer job. Hopefully, I'll be able to work full time through Christmas break. Hopefully I'll work all day on Christmas day... seeing how no one wants to work on that day. When I can, I'll soon become a workaholic. I'll pay off all my debts, and finally be free. I can't wait for the next two years to pass, and graduate. It will be grand.

I probably won't update my DeviantArt for a long long time either.

Oh, and note: My hair is back to pink again. I'd dyed it blue, and then it was purple when I tried going back to pink. But now, it's back to being pink again

Signing off.

-Ana