what am i doing? blogging and reading other peoples' blogs obsessively. what should i be doing? feeding myself, bathing myself, editing the fucking prop. or, if nothing else, walk the dogs. how long do i have to do these things? the next three hours before i meet with my lone tutoring student to talk about either, a. SAT writing; b. SAT verbal; c. series counterpoint; or d. why he wants to study music composition in college and does he REALLY wanna do that.
ever get so fucking sick of yourself that you just wanna look in the mirror and say, "shut up, already!" that's me. i'm so fucking sick of myself. i'm sick of being so serious and so angsty and so stuck in my fucking head. i'm sick of how preciously i've been treating myself and the indulgences i've demanded from others. i'm sick of bleeding and bleeding and then saying, "hey look! i'm bleeding!" i'm sick of writing coherent sentences. bananas never set over the desert, though they might not quite look you in the eye. whine whine whine whine whine. and i'm getting sick of whining about whining.
fucking fuck fuck. i want my fucking shit damn sense of humor back. cussy cussy cussssssssssss. i'm ten years old, y'all!