January 19, 2010|
I just finished reading Exquisite Corpse for the second time in so many many years. I didn't remember how depressing it got, how it had a horrible helpless air.
My buddy list updated, made me think there was a letter to me, and it turned out news adds itself to my list, and I felt my face grow fat with tears. Why can't I remove news from this list?
I have been working on music every day. I feel like a nobody but I have to keep moving forward. There is nowhere else to go. I am at the bottom. I always have been. I feel like I always will be even though I don't want to believe I always will be.
No one has called my phone lately except my mother who calls constantly to bark orders at me because it's easier than getting up. Sometimes I'll see the phone ring, Sometimes I will feel my heart swell in anticipation, and then disappointment, predictability. There is no friend call. Only mom calls.
which fucks with me, because I feel like I should be grateful for having a mom who calls me. But they are not real calls. They are utilitarian calls. I don't know if I could ever fondly remember such phonecalls. It doesn't seem possible.
The days keep shutting down early. Sometimes they stop midday, because there is so much rain that it's dark. I don't know where today went. The sky is yellow and ghastly.
I feel like my features are much older than before. I worry I may have aged overweek or overfortnight.
I'm so overweight that my back hurts all the time. I am embarrassed to return to school. I am embarrassed to look old, to look fat.
I feel like the worm's tail end. Big and plump for a time that never was for me, and then this is where I settle down. But there never was a time for me to rise up.
My friend said he thinks I might be tired all the time from being depressed. But I haven't felt sad or anything. What I have written here today might suggest otherwise.