Wednesday, September 22, 2010

This black hole that I'm falling into, this tub of molasses that intermittently claims my limbs and my will, it's alien and terrifying. When you find yourself thinking "oh, this feels pretty bad. I've never thought these self loathing thought before", is it time to really worry?

I've never been super happy with myself but have always been pleased that I have fine self esteem and aren't worried about my naked body during sex or can work full time without knowing where I'm going but all of a sudden I can't stand it. Nor can I stand my weakness to fucking move and do anything about any of it.
And. And. And jager straight from the bottle with egg on toast is NOT THE WAY TO HAVE SUPPER.

This molasses is the enemy. It's a lethal enemy. Sneezes smell like honey.

War strategies:
ASL courses - get on the road to learning so as to move towards being a translator facilitator? First concrete plan I've had since I was 11. Boorah.

I've stopped smoking and kept biking. Good.

Back active on OkCupid? I don't know why not, I want options but they all fall flat but I need companionship an embarrassing much.

Fuck you, sweet heavy tar.

Ps. I miss men.

Sent from my iPhone

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