Once again, Insomnia
5:09 am
Can’t sleep again. Listening to a lot of Placebo & beginning to think the sleep meds are a bum deal.
Ha, the theme of the week: been there, done that. Didn’t pan our so well for me or anyone else involved. An argument of sorts ensued. Don’t remember if I wrote about that. [was that a month ago already?]
The sun is rising quickly now. I think about what time it is there. Time to get up for work I guess.
I don’t write diary entries very often anymore (as you might have guessed), online or otherwise. In fact, up until Tuesday night, I had only written a handful of things since the beginning of the year. I’ve started journaling again, though. In the past two days, I have written 10 pages. A lot of stuff that spins around in my head that no one else but me cares about.
Fuck, I don’t even know what to write about in here anymore… I don’t know what to say to many people anymore. I only really talk to a few people now. I hear them a lot, but put very little input of my own in.
Damn blinking cursor, stop nagging & pressuring me. Now I know why I steer more toward writing in my notebooks.
I’ve started to feel animosity towards nearly every person I work w/… or maybe that’s just nearly every person, but work people in particular. Everyone is a fucking comedian. Even at 27, I’m still the one to get picked on. People wonder why I have fantasies about hopping over counters, tables, & out windows to bloody someone’s face. I’m not a fucking victim, though. I won’t let myself be. At the same time, I am so very scared of showing the world this.. well.. little girl inside? I’ve seen what people do to you if you’re sweet & innocent. I may be intellectually stunted, emotionally speaking, but I’m not that stupid.
Alicia’s my best friend. God I love her. My brother & I don’t speak much anymore & I keep pretty distant from the rest of my blood relatives to the point that Alicia feels like the only real family I have. Fuck, it’s almost 5:30 & I’m rambling. Yet.. I have the urge to open up that marble comp book & fill the pages until sleep comes.
Ah, my lovely Chevelle. I’ve fallen in love w/the acoustic version of "Panic Prone" that I favorited it on YouTube.
If anyone is into giving a shit.. I made a portfolio of a bunch of my hemp works via deviantArt. The url: http://www.bridgetwardwell.daportfolio.com. I’m too lazy to link & the meds are beginning to make everything feel heavy. I did reshoots of most of the pictures today (errr.. yesterday) to take the focus off the depression. It worked for a while.. til I photographed, edited, & uploaded everything. Then I was left feeling lost on what to do w/myself.. so I wrote more. That bit, however, due to how personal it is, will not be shared w/the general masses.
God damn it, why did I have to leave my copy of Into the Wild on the bedside table? Shaun’s in the room fast asleep & I long to read that book. However, he is quite the light sleeper & would wake if I crept in there to grab it. Knowing me, I’d trip over something or ram my foot into the leg of the bed & break another toe. Oh well.. think I’ll just write instead.
Sorry for the streamofconsciousness again.. I’m getting too good at that, I guess.
I need to get back to journalling again. My writing abilities suffer when I don’t practice. I love the Into The Wild book. Still haven’t seen the movie yet. And piss @ the world for chewing up and spitting out the sweet and innocent
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