Monday, April 12, 2004

im not here, this isn't happening.

i have a bad habit of listening to Kid A when im really depressed. which blatantly doesn't help. cause it's not the most uplifting of soundtracks. but it has been the theme music to my 'im way too fucking miserable to get out of bed' type days. someone please shoot thom yorke and put him out of his misery.

someone please shoot me and put me out of my misery.

maybe this fabulastic mood is due to the third fucking weekend in a row the ex-factor has decided to show up unannounced. i was super mad at him for not making himself available for my wrath incursion, but now that he's around, i kind of just wish he'd go away. life was admittedly easier when i could just hate him in all his absent glory. now he's like this actual person that has a good side that i can't loathe completely. and i sooo want to loathe him completely.

motherfucking fuck. fuckety, fuck, fuck fuckerson. with a side of FUCK.

eh. that's just a minor complication though. i have these periods in my life where i can't seem to get anything done. and the thought of all the things i have to get done render me an immobile piece of shit, that sleeps till three in the afternoon. and then im even more unlikely to move in any significant direction the next day. due to all the additional shit i have accrued from two whole days of being a piece of shit.

or sometimes there's that completely misanthropic day or two, where if someone is stupid enough to invite me to go somewhere, it takes me a full four hours of deliberation and staring at the ceiling to will myself out the door and into the social melee. once i get to wherever it is im going, im like, 'no. im not coming out. so you better under no fucking circumstances get this party started'. but then if i dont go, i feel guilty for not joining the human race and being an upstanding, contributing, baby-kissing member of the community.

and these are the days for when i want to drink a shit-ton of nyquil and sleep until i suspect i might not mind waking up. im like the puxatawnie phil of mood swings. if i poke my head out the bed-room door, to merely locate my hip flask and take a healthy gulp, there shall be six more weeks of nuclear, mind-suck winter. but if i make it to the kitchen, and there is pizza...well then, the tundra has been traversed.



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