The Wee Democracy

that drowning feeling

hard to get out of bed these days. i was going to write about how it was good to have a job in times like this, just so that you have to get out of bed, and do something with your day, but that's not the case. i don't want to go in at all, and i know when i get off, ain't nothin' gonna be different anyway.

hard not to slip into that self pity thing, which, in itself, can cause a pretty healthy amount of self loathing, like, man, my life sucks, followed by, man, you're a spoiled motherfucker. there are people who are alot worse off than you, and you're here bitching cause you're lonely. wah wah. see? tough cycle.

hard to get motivated to do anything, even things you normally like, or look forward to. even watching curb your enthusiasm, a guaranteed laugh generator, barely works.

hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel, hell, even to believe there's a light there.

hard to feel like you deserve happiness, or even the pursuit of it.

hard to put on a stoic face all the time, and share none of this. hard not to spill your guts at the next person who shows you any kindness at all.

hard to put one foot in front of the other, like they say to do.

hard to understand why it is the way it is. i was going to write why it has to be this way, but i do know it doesn't have to be this way. harder to understand how to begin to change it. harder still to change all that needs changing.

hard to listen to the voices in the dark, representatives of the friends you've got, and recognize there's a warm body behind them. they've got a safety net set up for you, but you can't see it, like the forest for the trees.

hard to sleep. hard to eat...right.

hard not to cry.