Hearse

My computer chair is broken, and it causes me much inner rage when I try to adjust it.

I’m feeling grumpy and a bit self-loathing.  I ate a bunch of cinnamon bread and I feel like one of those fat people that order giant gut-clogging combos at McDonalds with a Diet Coke.

"Gotta keep my girlish figure!"

I’ve gotten a lot done but still feel stagnant.  In a rut.  In my own head.

I’ve sold so many old clothes, furniture, given things to Goodwill.  I even enrolled in college again after years and years of mental decay.  I wish I started classes now, maybe that could distract me from my own inner monologue.

No, this is how it works, you peer inside yourself

You take the things you like, and try to love the things you took

Then you take that love you made, and stick it into some…

Someone else’s heart, pumping someone else’s blood

And walking arm in arm, you hope it don’t get harmed

And even if it does, you just do it all again

It’s 10:09 pm, and I feel isolated.

I always have dreams of being pregnant, and I wake up feeling strangely happy.  I don’t know what it means, because the thought of having a baby terrifies me in most ways.  I can barely remember how to tie a tie without consulting the Internet, much less keep a tiny person alive long enough for them to think they hate me.

I wish I could talk to strangers without the jitters.