Little Black Book of Doom

Dec 13 – We didn’t even catch the meteor shower the clouds were so dense. Regardless, the late night trip to the roof left me feeling a tiny bit of life had returned.

Dec 30 – I haven’t felt too much of that life over Christmas. I’ve got a real problem being myself around other people. Not being myself gets tiring. And not being able to be myself is exhausting. It bums me out, sets my thoughts on a rapid downward spiral, and once that reaches free fall I’m not getting any sleep… I don’t know what I’m supposed to be changing here – me, or the people I’m around. As in the people I choose to be around. I guess if I change myself then the rest of it, like the people I find myself with, will just naturally change if it needs to.

Maybe. I don’t know.

I don’t know what it is right now, but I hate everything about myself. I hide in a relationship with Takes It Too Far Boy. And we hide together under the duvet, watching tv endlessly. I hate myself for it. I hate that I’ve started this journal. I can’t stand my limp, dull, self-centered snivelling. Am I taking the piss making out that this is helping me to understand myself and move on? Or is this just another thing I hide behind? Another shitty fucking distraction before I actually start living a life. Am I ever going to have that boot up my arse, that fire in my belly?  My life is inert. It’s dead. But I suppose not really, because I could revive it. In theory anyway.

So what’s stopping me? What am I so afraid of? What the fuck is scarier than death?

Life. Apparently…

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Little Black Book of Doom

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