Sometimes I forget how to breathe.
Sometimes I forget how to walk.
Sometimes I forget who I am.
I've neglected blogging because I stopped caring about sharing myself with others. I stopped wanting to express my innermost self through the written word.
It used to be treat. Or maybe just a ruse. I feel like fraud, coming back to Blogger, hoping that maybe you're still out there. I suppose I could pretend that you are.
An update of sorts:
I'm enjoying the single life. I'm talking to C. again, and still crushing on D. from work. Ah, to be young and boy-crazy.
I've been smoking pot every single day sometimes all day. It's too much, and I reassure my therapist I will try to quit, but can I?
My dad is still in the hospital. He had major open surgery almost 2 weeks ago. It took the surgeons 12 hours to remove the tumor. He will be ok. Our relationship is improving. I feel that we dodged a bullet.
I'm slipping. I'm eating. I hate myself every other day. This year has gotten off to such a rough start. First the breakup with J. and then my dad getting seriously sick so suddenly. I'm trying to stay positive despite the stress but it's fucking impossible.
Currently listening to Regina Spektor. Smoking a bowl. Drinking water. My neck aches from headbanging to some rock music the other night. My body is supremely exhausted and begging for sleep. My car's gas tank is thirsty for gas, all the driving to visit my dad in the hospital is taking a toll on my wallet.
Complaining, is that what this is? Who the fuck am I? Some jaded working class citizen with a need to be thinner and the willingness to starve. I am sofucked up.
Whatever. I'll change when I want to.