January 21st, 2004

Me pink

"Parliamentary Procedure" (mostly lifted from an email I just sent)

So I smoked. A little.

I was at Quiet Storm and I don't know what ... many thoughts in my head ... many feelings going on ... and there was a Parliament - don't ask me why, but ever since I quit, I've had a thing for Parliaments, which were NOT my old brand - and I lit it up and smoked it.

A little. I suppose I actually had about three drags before I got sick - sick to my stomach, combined with fed up with myself - which is when I put it out, went outside (January evening without my coat on ... s'ok, it fed the mania of the moment), and started making phone calls ... and fucking nobody was home! I left a message for Orange Mike, lurpy, khaosinc ... FINALLY I reached Peezy who was very confused and said "well don't do it again," at which point I just hung up on him ...

So I've come home and taken more painkillers, which is just swapping one problem for another problem, which, again, is something I have a lot of experience doing. And now I just feel like fucking yelling or throwing something ... tossing my laptop out the window ... showing my fist through the window ...

Right. I'm just angsty and aggravated and wondering why ... why. I'm so jealous of everyone. I wish I was in school or employed or just doing something that kept my mind and my body active and challenged. Instead I feel like I'm sitting on a shelf. I've been sitting on a shelf for months now. I'm never going to do anything unless my parents say I'm allowed to. I tried to move away a while back and my father put on the "you're trying to kill me" histrionics and I backed down, like I always do. Which is really an incredibly pathetic excuse because I'm 33 fucking years old and I should learn to do something for my own fucking self already.

Fuck. I'm sitting here and revealing all my secrets and it's not even in a format where someone can respond. Writing an email, writing a letter: it's like throwing a scrap of paper into a wishing well. Maybe it will get a response and maybe it won't, but you have to sit and wait before you ever find out.

Why do I feel like I always have to justify myself? Man, I never fucking do anything right.