Day 2.

This is my second night alone in my new apartment. My cat is asleep on my bed, I am sitting up on my futon, smoking a little and listening to some music while searching for things to read online. It is Friday night and I could care less about being out at the bar, which is where the majority of this town is. It's a "party school" well that begs the question, isn't every college known for partying? That's what we college folk do on Thirsty Thursday and Frantic Friday and Sake Saturday. Oops, can't forget Sunday Funday. And Tanked Tuesday. Ohh, College Town, you've turned me into a drinker.
I even bought a bottle, so don't let me kid you here. I am not against partying, yes I was being a little sarcastic there but that's only because I resent those college kids with trivial lives. I resent their lack of introspect, solitude, and experience.
It's not like I'm so old, or super experienced myself. It's just me, and what's happened to me. A lot. My mom agrees and when I talk about my life, my friends back off, get quieter, noticeably force another subject out of awkwardness/pity. My eyes and forehead ache of out creased stresses. My smile is grim and unforgiving. My eyes focus not on yours, but deep down into the very crevices of your being. I wonder to myself, is this person lying to me? Could this person be trying to pull a fast one on me?

I am paranoid, possibly delusional, frail, tough, and nauseous. My eyes burn with exhaustion and my contact lenses are stuck on tight. I can't move.

This place smells of scented cat litter. I should light a candle.

Ha. Ha.

Yeah right. I'll never light a candle again. I walked past my old building today. The one where I lived for almost a year of my college experience. It still stinks of dust. I wanted to cry, I really did. Instead I became numb, and then unsteady. I spoke with an elderly man who I knew from my work (customer) and he picked up on my distress. He showed me pottery; I made a quick exit, embarrassed but not ashamed.

I'm out of water.
My cat is still asleep. It's almost two in the morning, I work at one in the afternoon. I work the next 3 days in a row. I am on my period. I ate some food tonight. I am feeling sort of low, but not deeply depressed.

I miss the scale that was at my parent's house, if you can believe that. So now I'll have to buy one. I need to know how much I weigh.

I suppose I'll go take out my contacts and move to my bed. Idk.

A few hours later. I am beat, laying in bed, not sleeping. The stupid fucking cat is wide awake and ravaging this place. I'm pissed off and pmsing.

Just wanted to finish the post. Peace, people.

Think thin.