April 19, 2002 :: 9:00 p.m.
if only shutting off my mind were so simple
I feel like a lunatic. I don't know why I've attached such a weird significance to this event, but I have, and now I've been beaten to an emotional pulp by my own un-fulfilled expectations. Amanda just called; she's going to come over in a little while. I really don't feel like doing anything but finding new an ingenious ways to kill myself with kitchen utensils, but I figure that the company will probably do me some good. I'm the type of person who, if left alone, will only dig myself deeper into the pit of unhappiness. I'll replay it over and over until I bawling again, crying so hard that my throat is swelled up and my eyes feel like sandpaper. Oh wait. I already did that.
I'm going to go draw or something. I'd like to appear as if I have some handle on my emotions when she gets here. I need to take some tylenol and wash my face. Drink some water. My throat hurts when I move my neck the wrong way. I'm seriously thinking about begging out of the film thing tomorrow and Sunday. I feel like shit. I want to lay in bed and berate myself for getting so upset over such a meaningless situation, for all the stupid things I said. That's all. My niece�s birthday party is tomorrow, too, but I don't think I'll be making an appearance. I don't even know when it starts.
*sigh* Off to clean up before my other half gets here. Ta ta.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
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