11/17/2012

It’s really been one of those  days.

I took a two-hour long walk on the beach today.  Lake Superior is very moody in November. 

I was maybe a mile a half from home, and completely alone, and probably more profoundly lonely than I’ve ever been in my life.  Loneliness is something I’m good at.  Fantastic.  So I’m looking out of the water, at the trees and rocks and forest and I think to myself, “This could be it.”

The idea of never having to do any of this  again is appealing.  Small things.  Big things.  It’s all exhausting, all adding up into a burden I don’t want to carry.

Can’t fucking sleep.  Can I ever?

Everything I do is worthless, and I generally just want to say ‘fuck it’ and delete my entire existence from reality.  But you can’t undo what’s been done, so I’ll have always been here.  That’s really the problem.