Wednesday, June 6
I feel terribly depressed and angry.
I feel alone, insecure, tired. Freelance camera work has been picking up, which is good, but not enough. I need more money, I need to move out. I feel pathetic.
I don't know how to talk to people, like I'm living in 2 dimensions while everyone else is living comfy and fat in all 3. Like a paper doll I hobble from side to side, knocking into people's curvy 3-dimensional bodies but I just feel sharp edges. People pass by and I pass judgment and I hobble on my merry way to fold myself to sleep and forget. What does this weird metaphor even mean? I don't know, I should probably just go to therapy (but I wOoOoN'T!).
I don't know, this is bad. I realize how crazy and unhealthy and psychotic this post must sound, but at least I'm self aware, right? Sort of? And I'm not obligated to make sense. That is probably dangerous logic, but I think it's a fair rule to keep on this blog.
Well, it felt good to get this out, whatever it was. I read once John Lennon used to do like primal scream therapy or something and benefited from it. This is my version of that, like, me mumbling to myself as I type furiously is about as primal as I can get.
Okay, now I'm gonna go shower. I don't know. I have to work late tonight and I don't wanna. Wah wah wah. I'd rather just write narcissistic, half-baked metaphors about my feelings instead.
I feel alone, insecure, tired. Freelance camera work has been picking up, which is good, but not enough. I need more money, I need to move out. I feel pathetic.
I don't know how to talk to people, like I'm living in 2 dimensions while everyone else is living comfy and fat in all 3. Like a paper doll I hobble from side to side, knocking into people's curvy 3-dimensional bodies but I just feel sharp edges. People pass by and I pass judgment and I hobble on my merry way to fold myself to sleep and forget. What does this weird metaphor even mean? I don't know, I should probably just go to therapy (but I wOoOoN'T!).
I don't know, this is bad. I realize how crazy and unhealthy and psychotic this post must sound, but at least I'm self aware, right? Sort of? And I'm not obligated to make sense. That is probably dangerous logic, but I think it's a fair rule to keep on this blog.
Well, it felt good to get this out, whatever it was. I read once John Lennon used to do like primal scream therapy or something and benefited from it. This is my version of that, like, me mumbling to myself as I type furiously is about as primal as I can get.
Okay, now I'm gonna go shower. I don't know. I have to work late tonight and I don't wanna. Wah wah wah. I'd rather just write narcissistic, half-baked metaphors about my feelings instead.
