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Is this my problem?
I dunno, but whatever it is, it sure doesn't feel good.
Miraculously making it to work on time, dead dead night on the phone, there's a put out or get out notice on the door and you don't give a fuck enough to put out. 2 more minutes and I'm doing paperwork. Fuck it. I'm still at work and it's nowhere near 6:57, but the browser's hosed and I can't fix it. General state of grief and dread. Wanna scream but what for. My schedule's all screwy and I'll soon be a citizen of the WORLD dahling.... And how does that make me feel besides detached. Outside. Like that last scene in fight club standing there watching the building fall down. Was that my building? The people are all out. Everyone goes back to zero. If I can't be tied to something I give a good goddamn about, I don't want to be tied to anything. Nothing. Fuck it. Fuck you. General hollowness in the solar plexus. General state of the body crapping out. The engines of creation grind to a halt. The menses stop and it's not cause the rabbit died. (Thank gawd). It's just all... On hold. While I metaphorically throw up? Argh. Temple math. Two days a week and nothing else. I've made Sims of everyone I know. And then some. I bitch cause I run out of potato chips. I fear the grocery store. I can't cry anymore. The animals are secure. Just gotta deal with the stuff. Stuff stuff stuff. Fucking stuff. I hate fucking stuff. It's more burden. More things. Things I didn't even have a few months ago. Fucking stuff. And all I'm left with is stuff. Here. Have some nice parting gifts. Thanks for playing. The paper shredder's posessed. I feel like a failure. Where's my damned ID? Where am I going now? And when the fuck can I go there? So tired of being practical in the face of messages from the universe to the contrary. Maybe running away IS healing. The big gaping hole hurts but I got no impetus to be tough this time. And yeah, I'm not the only one to ever feel this way, but something inside of me snapped this time. Was it one after the other after the other after the other for the last 10 years? What am I doing wrong? Every single city fucking block in this place reminds me of something. And now it's a whole entire unit. My sanctuary. My hovel. All of it making me very very sick. Robbing me of sleep. Invading my dreams. Why the motherfucking hell did it finally snap? One too many. Can't deal with it anymore. How the hell do you recover? I guess sometimes you just don't. And another accolade and a chorus of "you can do it" will make you spit. Really. Seriously. Why.
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I dunno, but whatever it is, it sure doesn't feel good.
Miraculously making it to work on time, dead dead night on the phone, there's a put out or get out notice on the door and you don't give a fuck enough to put out. 2 more minutes and I'm doing paperwork. Fuck it. I'm still at work and it's nowhere near 6:57, but the browser's hosed and I can't fix it. General state of grief and dread. Wanna scream but what for. My schedule's all screwy and I'll soon be a citizen of the WORLD dahling.... And how does that make me feel besides detached. Outside. Like that last scene in fight club standing there watching the building fall down. Was that my building? The people are all out. Everyone goes back to zero. If I can't be tied to something I give a good goddamn about, I don't want to be tied to anything. Nothing. Fuck it. Fuck you. General hollowness in the solar plexus. General state of the body crapping out. The engines of creation grind to a halt. The menses stop and it's not cause the rabbit died. (Thank gawd). It's just all... On hold. While I metaphorically throw up? Argh. Temple math. Two days a week and nothing else. I've made Sims of everyone I know. And then some. I bitch cause I run out of potato chips. I fear the grocery store. I can't cry anymore. The animals are secure. Just gotta deal with the stuff. Stuff stuff stuff. Fucking stuff. I hate fucking stuff. It's more burden. More things. Things I didn't even have a few months ago. Fucking stuff. And all I'm left with is stuff. Here. Have some nice parting gifts. Thanks for playing. The paper shredder's posessed. I feel like a failure. Where's my damned ID? Where am I going now? And when the fuck can I go there? So tired of being practical in the face of messages from the universe to the contrary. Maybe running away IS healing. The big gaping hole hurts but I got no impetus to be tough this time. And yeah, I'm not the only one to ever feel this way, but something inside of me snapped this time. Was it one after the other after the other after the other for the last 10 years? What am I doing wrong? Every single city fucking block in this place reminds me of something. And now it's a whole entire unit. My sanctuary. My hovel. All of it making me very very sick. Robbing me of sleep. Invading my dreams. Why the motherfucking hell did it finally snap? One too many. Can't deal with it anymore. How the hell do you recover? I guess sometimes you just don't. And another accolade and a chorus of "you can do it" will make you spit. Really. Seriously. Why.
( Read more... )
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