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[20 Mar 2004|11:39pm] |
I wore jackets whenever possible, to look older and smarter... my forehead bang-free, me skull's sheen. I became idiotic around attractive men, switching poles and winning an Oscar. They thought I didn't give a rat's. I gave a million rats plus one and wept. I blackened my eyes and still faked mystery. I was arrogantly exclusive and sat in an airless 1 foot cube, thinking myself quite content. I made sure to feel every one of my smiles, it's sinews flexing, made it perfect. I took myself entirely too seriously in the wrong situations. I was forced into great performances by other people. I never did anything for myself except refrain.
I hope I'm different now. I hope I can get through my own doings. Oh shit I'm fucked up and obviously so this time. I hope my promotion works out. I hope I retain some dignity. No more cutting onions in my mind.
Maybe I'm depressed.
Being alone is getting scary. More so than the fact that there is no time for such.
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