Well, here I am, still trying to fend off the darkness.
My “Day of Light” worked. Yesterday was an excellent day. Oh, how joyous to feel human and real, not an alien shell skulking – I like the word “skulking” – around in a …
Just came across a BBC 4 documentary on Queen Victoria’s Letters. Back soon, I’m that much of a geek this is like brain porn for me.
Snap the band.
Always have a hair tie on my wrist to snap when I want to cut. Now is one of those whens.
Poison ivy. Ruin everything. Relapse queen. Pathetic. Damaged goods. Twisted. Dangerous.
Why am I not better? Why have I not got my shit together?
How am I still utterly useless and destructive, in itself an oxymoron: uselessly destructive.
I thought I was great because I ran 1/4 mile sprintervals tonight during my walk but in reality I didn’t achieve anything this week or make any progress. I regressed. I hate not getting things done; I hate not being productive.
This week I pissed people off and let people down.
And tomorrow brings another fucking morning; another fucking Monday; another week of getting through the days.
The highs of yesterday aren’t worth the immediate downpour of soot that lows like tonight carry on their sudden and quick ill wind.
I wish I came with an off switch.