Whether it be a needle or a trigger, enjoy your 45. I have a hard time writing. Not actually writing, but focusing on a project. I doubt very highly it is ADD or some other shit written on a file in a school in a state I no longer reside in. I have a hard time sleeping. I have a hard time being an adult. Things havent changed much, I feel like I am standing still as the world spins around me. Names, faces, phone numbers orbiting around me (there's a joke to me made). I had a line earlier about the brutality of something, probably humanity and a phantom lasting the length of a song, a cigarette, an errand. This fog of bi-location, which may not be limited to St. Ignatius is making it hard to see clearly.
I think of you often. I have things I meant to give to you, or you left with me, or that reminds me of you. I feel like I am standing between a tectonic plates and being pulled slowly in opposite directions. I dont know what to do and I am avoiding panic by avoiding solutions. It isnt working (there's a joke there). Writing the jokes for an empty stage.
I have read 12 books in three weeks. I go to the library quite frequently. I have a Pell grant and I havent applied to schools. I am finally actually broke. I think I still have a ways to go until I hit rock bottom. My sister was telling me some things my mom said about my dad and they sounded a lot like me. Not surprisingly, I didnt take it well. Most people I know are not doing well right now. It's hard sitting it out as it were.
I dont know why I find phone sex so funny. Or dating in general. I have been on more dates in VA than probably my whole life. The more I meet people, the more I want to be alone. I am trying to do something with my attitude, but this heat is not helping me be productive.
That's enough.
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