2004-05-05 - 11:12 p.m.
The day that was today can be summed in one adjective: droopy. Droopy like that house plant no one ever waters, droopy like a clown fired from clowning, droopy like the expression staining my face.
All the boxes I needed to tick to feel okay were left unmarked, I fell short of all the standards.
Where's the quality control processing in life I ask you? There's no one to step in and pull you out because your head is mangled.
All paths lead to mother-figure.... I'm speaking in a tongue only sensical to me now.
Today I dropped my grain of normalcy somewhere is all, so that what I am is just wrong or not good enough in all contexts. I love my grainy, have you seen him? When he comes back to me I will consider having him surgically attached.
I'll wear him on my wrist like a night club stamp and flash it at the bouncer so he'll let me in, the club all the cool kids want to get into, maybe you've heard of it? Sanity? I've never been there but the brochure looks nice.
I know I'll never get the happiness dealy, not unless I start buying it from drug dealers anyway, but I think I'd be content with peace of mind, some harmony.
Have you seen Calder's mobile, vertical out of horizontal? I want to be it.
Calder was on this ship once, I forget exactly where, but it was positioned so that he could see both the sunrise and a full moon. The impression it made on him is something I think I'm looking for.
Lasting perspective... enlightenment, perhaps.
Today we watched this video of little kids getting lumbar punctures, screaming, in so much pain, I almost cried. And then it came back to them later, all grown up, all feeling better for the experience.
I'm not better for anything, and I feel so guilty for that.
We have a hospital visit next week, I'm not sure how it'll go. My track record with hospitals is not good, in fact it's remarkably crappy considering the general lack of traumatic experiences there. It's not that they irk me, I used to be so fine with them, I just...
Sometimes I think if "emotionally fragile" was a label I would have been made for it.
I cried during 60 minutes. I cried during an Adam Sandler movie. I cried because I had to come home.
The crying jags are less disturbing than the eating jags, because I know that in a way I'm testing myself. How far will I go? Will I lead myself into the beginnings of bulimia or anorexia or will I just get really, really, really fat?
It's stupid, but where before I'd have wanted people to tell me I was being silly and that I'm more than good enough, now I'd prefer my non-good-enough status to be cemented out in the open, it'd be a relief, honestly.
Ahhh, don't mind me, I'm nuttier than peanut butter at this stage and I know it. PMS! PMS! If a girl can kill a guy and use that line as defense I'm sure it's somehow appropriate now also.
All the boxes I needed to tick to feel okay were left unmarked, I fell short of all the standards.
Where's the quality control processing in life I ask you? There's no one to step in and pull you out because your head is mangled.
All paths lead to mother-figure.... I'm speaking in a tongue only sensical to me now.
Today I dropped my grain of normalcy somewhere is all, so that what I am is just wrong or not good enough in all contexts. I love my grainy, have you seen him? When he comes back to me I will consider having him surgically attached.
I'll wear him on my wrist like a night club stamp and flash it at the bouncer so he'll let me in, the club all the cool kids want to get into, maybe you've heard of it? Sanity? I've never been there but the brochure looks nice.
I know I'll never get the happiness dealy, not unless I start buying it from drug dealers anyway, but I think I'd be content with peace of mind, some harmony.
Have you seen Calder's mobile, vertical out of horizontal? I want to be it.
Calder was on this ship once, I forget exactly where, but it was positioned so that he could see both the sunrise and a full moon. The impression it made on him is something I think I'm looking for.
Lasting perspective... enlightenment, perhaps.
Today we watched this video of little kids getting lumbar punctures, screaming, in so much pain, I almost cried. And then it came back to them later, all grown up, all feeling better for the experience.
I'm not better for anything, and I feel so guilty for that.
We have a hospital visit next week, I'm not sure how it'll go. My track record with hospitals is not good, in fact it's remarkably crappy considering the general lack of traumatic experiences there. It's not that they irk me, I used to be so fine with them, I just...
Sometimes I think if "emotionally fragile" was a label I would have been made for it.
I cried during 60 minutes. I cried during an Adam Sandler movie. I cried because I had to come home.
The crying jags are less disturbing than the eating jags, because I know that in a way I'm testing myself. How far will I go? Will I lead myself into the beginnings of bulimia or anorexia or will I just get really, really, really fat?
It's stupid, but where before I'd have wanted people to tell me I was being silly and that I'm more than good enough, now I'd prefer my non-good-enough status to be cemented out in the open, it'd be a relief, honestly.
Ahhh, don't mind me, I'm nuttier than peanut butter at this stage and I know it. PMS! PMS! If a girl can kill a guy and use that line as defense I'm sure it's somehow appropriate now also.
