2002-12-30 - 5:23 p.m.
Good Charlotte I love you and want to have your babies.
I didn't mean to start there but their CD is soooooo good.
So a new year is coming and there isn't much that can be done to stop it.
I'm making decisions that seem wrong either way, as if the second I settle with something someone illuminates it with a big neon sign proclaiming the wrongness of it all.
And I get that. I'm trying to do the best with what I've been given but it's clearly not the best, maybe it's only my best that I'm doing and that possessive pronoun indicates the crummyness of the overall effort.
This is normally my cue to launch into some woe-is-me-I-suck type crap followed up by some urgh-I'm-so-fat-I-hate-me (although I did just try to spell 'launch' as 'lunch') but I'm not going to, 2003 is coming and it is likely to not tolerate my crap and instead try to bitchslap me out of it.
So not wanting that to happen...
Tomorrow night I'm going to be hanging out with my mum. Maybe not the funtastic evening I could be having, but... it's something I can't not do, although I'm sorry for the wrong happening along the way.
Love, guilt, fear, guilt. There's some more mixed in there but that's the main drift.
I'm almost okay for once and that's nice. Today I've gone on a huge house cleaning spree, throwing useless junk out that I've been holding onto sentimentally all year... it's the good, I love how the ritualistic cleaning process does something cleansing for my insides too, I could almost write a sociological essay about it (ha ha).
I've got time. It's a nice feeling.
I didn't mean to start there but their CD is soooooo good.
So a new year is coming and there isn't much that can be done to stop it.
I'm making decisions that seem wrong either way, as if the second I settle with something someone illuminates it with a big neon sign proclaiming the wrongness of it all.
And I get that. I'm trying to do the best with what I've been given but it's clearly not the best, maybe it's only my best that I'm doing and that possessive pronoun indicates the crummyness of the overall effort.
This is normally my cue to launch into some woe-is-me-I-suck type crap followed up by some urgh-I'm-so-fat-I-hate-me (although I did just try to spell 'launch' as 'lunch') but I'm not going to, 2003 is coming and it is likely to not tolerate my crap and instead try to bitchslap me out of it.
So not wanting that to happen...
Tomorrow night I'm going to be hanging out with my mum. Maybe not the funtastic evening I could be having, but... it's something I can't not do, although I'm sorry for the wrong happening along the way.
Love, guilt, fear, guilt. There's some more mixed in there but that's the main drift.
I'm almost okay for once and that's nice. Today I've gone on a huge house cleaning spree, throwing useless junk out that I've been holding onto sentimentally all year... it's the good, I love how the ritualistic cleaning process does something cleansing for my insides too, I could almost write a sociological essay about it (ha ha).
I've got time. It's a nice feeling.
