Andare, Partire, Tornare ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A short screed full of lots of self-pity I have a hundred topics to write about all whirling in my head, but when I put my fingers on the keyboard to write, it all goes away someplace else. In some ways, I'm wondering if I'm coming to the end of this journaling experiment - I'm going through the thought process that since I'm not all that good a writer, and primarily use this forum to write about meaningless things to a small handfull of people, many of whom could hear it in real life over the phone, and all I have to show for it is a guestbook filled with casino and penis pill spam, maybe I should hang it up. I'm not making any decisions, because decisions are sort of temporarily beyond me at the moment. Maybe this journal serves as a place for me to think about myself - which could be a good thing, but considering how goddamn introspective I am anyway, might be a bad thing. Please forgive. I drove home today after work and found myself crying for no good reason. Yesterday, we had a party, and it was a good one filled with friendship and stupid jokes and bad movies and pizza and now I am crying again, for no reason. I have a bag full of bills to sort through and pay tomorrow. I have appointments to make and things to do and people to love, and I just want them all to go away. I have a husband who is worrying about me even while I worry about him, and this evening before he left for work, I ended up sitting in front of him with my head in his lap, just clinging to him. I am full of so much self-pity that I should be starting to laugh at myself because it's so ridiculous, but I can't even muster myself to that point. I am spending too much time on the internet reading things without really taking in much, because it's easier than dealing with people. I am feeling like life is just too damn difficult, even as I tell myself that I am a whiny baby who is simply upset because life is supposed to be easy, and this is hard, and I didn't sign up for this anyway. If I could throw a really good tantrum, I would do it. The cats would be very interested. Damn this all to hell for being a bad idea, anyway. I shouldn't type when I'm maudlin. Going to bed. 10:54 p.m. - 2005-02-13 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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