November 22, 2019|
Stopping midrun to write because I’m having nihilistic, self-destructive thoughts. Been following me around since I took a shower last night. I’ve been losing weight but seeing myself in the mirror made me feel ridiculous, like I’m a deflated inflatable clown.
When things seem less bad, a woman’s friendliness seems like it could be interest. I don’t see a lot of that so I’ve become fixated on one woman for treating me that way, but she also seems friendlier with another person now who I think is pretty fug, so I’m now looking at myself much more critically, deflated, embarrassing, ugly, misled. Not necessarily misled on purpose, but being touched and smiled at and stuff made me feel kind of vital and alive and worthy of fucking. I still want to believe in that version of things, but I don’t really. But I still keep wanting to believe because I feel like I’m in free fall when I don’t. Gravity and time pulling me into nothingness, hitting rejection and irrelevance along the way.
Last night I was thinking of my bff, how I’ve only met her once, because for decades I just accepted that I don’t have money, that I can’t do anything I want to do unless it’s given to me, and I just kept thinking of how she keeps talking about her and her partner as a unit, and visiting now seems stupid because I had years to do it and now I’m just intruding on someone else’s fucking life and I’m dead. I’m a dead person who makes everything wither.
Made it out of the house early to run which is kind of a miracle. I used to do it all the time, maybe 4-5 years ago. But now it’s hard. Cars tailgating and crowding me. seems more common now. Maybe I’ll make it home early enough that it’s not rush hour number two when I just feel like shit being in that room overlooking a busy street.
two runners passed me. in shape and younger and obviously wealthy. seems stupid to have goals when there’s a tidal wave of people who passed those goals when they were kids and are now reaping the benefits, with new problems that they can actually navigate and manage.
thinking of all the friends who seemed like the whole world to me, who left because i was the chosen exile for the year. thinking of friend who got married had baby and visited the neighborhood last week and never called. thinking of the friend who once in a while emerges in a seemingly permanent way before disappearing into work, his marriage, his baby. I probably should have made one about five years ago because I’m now incompatible with new life. I’m death.
I’m sitting on a rock next to a bunch of rocks arranged in a ten-foot long version of LOVE spelled out in rocks. Sometimes it seems like I plan scenes out for a movie, but I didn’t.
Meaning and hope and belief seem like things that other people can have. Like in theory I believe in things that are good for people but I don’t believe they’re good for me. When girls liked me, I didn’t feel great about myself unless they paid attention, and afterwards I’d feel like I never even got that attention. Now that I haven’t been with anyone in years, the danger I was always in is here, devouring me every moment I’m alive. Back to running.