Thursday, March 20, 2008

So I'm officially depressed.

This 13 day stretch, beginning with March 18th is usuall a rough patch for me, but I've gotten good at distracting myself from anything troublesome.

Only now I may have lost Michael forever. I probably haven't. We'll probably be friends. But how long will it take before that happens? It sucks.

I should work on my room. That's my big project now. The one that allows me to unwind and vent and exhaust myself until I feel nothing... This is maybe why there has been no poetry this year. My room consumes all that I'd write about, and makes it a different shade of art.

So I figured I'd go to Borders to get these books I was looking at a few weeks ago, when Michael & I were there. We stopped in and it was really late (nearly 11pm) and I just didn't have enough time to look through the selection that I wanted to see. Well, tonight I made sure that I had plenty of time, getting there about a quarter to 10, which would give me at least an hour to browse. Only they've now started closing at 10pm (since this last Monday apparently) and as soon as I walked up to the section I wanted to explore they announced that the store would be closing in 12 minutes!?! I asked this woman that worked there about and she she smilingly told me about the new hours... and a tear actually fell from my eye. And it took all the strength I had to not throw the heavy book in my hand at her perky wrinled face.

Oh. And we got this new color printer, which is way cool, but we don't have the paper I need to print up the pictures I was going to distract myself with. And I usually have a shake at night - it's this little treat I allow myself - and I don't have the icecream I need. And all these little things are just accenting the fact that Michael is gone, and all these hospital children memoris are flying through my brain...and I'm sort of a mess at the moment.

Things with my mother have never been wonderful, but they're so fucked up right now, and I don't even know how to fix that. And my little sister, who used to be cool has someone transformed into this bitch monster who lives to insult and rip into me behind my back! Family wise...relationship wise...in all kinds of 'wise'...I'm not. And it's starting to get to me.

And I can't talk to Mollie about it because the people at Sprint screwed us all over. And people wonder why she's my best friend... It's not that they can't see that she's wonderful, or why I like her, but what they maybe don't see is how when I'm at my worst, she makes me laugh. She tells me some horrible story about her job or how she hurt her leg while chatting on the internet...and I realize I'm not hurting all alone...and everything is ok.

In the car, on the way home, I was haunted by the cutting voice. That little voice that said that a razor would feel really good about now. Not to kill. Just to distract. I haven't really heard that voice in years. If it was there, then it was just so low as to be unrecognizable. I thought I'd killed it, buried it, and left it to rot. Oh well. Zombies all around then.

   posted by Bald Jason at 10:28 PM
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