August 09, 2003 :: 12:33 a.m.
bohemian hobo chic
I've had this empty little box sitting open in front of me for about half an hour now. I don't think there's anything more depressing than staring a blank space and not being able to think of anything to fill it with. When did I lose the ability to make my boring life seem, at the very least, funny? I'm a good writer. I have a serviceable sense of humor, or at least a knack for being a bitter, complaining harpy in that amusing way. But now it seems that I can't even invent things to write about. God, someone shove their thumbs into my eyes before it gets to the point where I have to make an effort to keep my eyes focused and the drool off of my chin.
I've spent the last few days sitting around, watching Buffy and knitting. It's not productive in the strictest sense, and it's gotten to the point where I'm so dismally bored that I don't even enjoy it that much. My dad is mad at me, despite the fact that his complete and total lack of interest or involvement in my life very nearly revokes that privilege. I'm feeling incredibly disgusted with myself physically, which is nothing new but somehow feels worse this time around. My period is a week late, I'm too poor to buy a pack of gum, no one would care if I fell into a black hole and died, and I've completely lost my appetite, so not even chocolate can make me feel better. I'm going through an extreme period of "my life is shit," and this time I can't even make jokes about it.
I do realize that this whining is probably getting old. I'm right there with ya. I'm sick of being too down to smile or laugh or make self-deprecating cracks that ease the tension of it all. But as there is no one around who would be willing to lace my tea with cyanide, I fear that this little Parade o' Pain will be in town for a while. Someone please contact the head of the world and tell them that I think they're a giant fuckhead.
I'm updating mostly out of obligation, so I guess there's not much else to say. How are things? They fairly suck on this end. Send yarn and/or baked goods and I'll draw you a picture.
Maybe I should go stand at a busy intersection wearing a sign that says "WILL TRADE ART FOR HAPPINESS." Think it'd work?
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005