Thursday, January 22, 2009

White walls

I've been recluse for basically 3 weeks now. It's paper month. I have 3 papers due on Monday. I have ups and downs. I hear the rain on the rooftop, I'm happy. I have a good meeting with a multinational VP, I'm depressed. There is no rhyme or reason.

Since Charlie Brown's Christmas song came on the internet back in early December I haven't felt the same. Adam left. The holidays were fine enough. School is back up and it's all different. We have a new building. I'm lacking luster. The gym gives me 30 minutes of a high when I'm active, and then an hour more of wariness and weakness in trying to battle for machines. The men are annoying. The women are weird. I'm entirely sick of the Parisian self-absorption, or as some sociologists call it "individualism." I spent several hours with the filmmaker trying on slutty outfits and dancing in front of a green screen for a film he's doing and then we had an unastonishing fuck. I hate writing the papers I'm writing. I suck. I feel self-defeated and crappy, despite the return of my awesomeness laptop and the return to freedom. I read 3 books in 3 weeks: Bonk, The General in His Labyrinth, and The Sun Also Rises. All gifts given over the past year and all wonderful for different reasons. I'm procrastinating the last 3 papers, career searches, dating. I don't want to see XYZ boy because his cock is too thin, PDQ boy because his breath is bad and he only wants to fuck hard, PYT boy because I spend so much effort to get over there and don't get enough back, BBQ boy because his cock is too long, UFO boy because he knows I'm a faker. In a breath of air, I had fantasies built up and they never got a chance to be spoken. It deflated me and and made me question my physical beauty. I was thrilled about the inauguration, but I had such longing to be in DC with so many of my friends. I watched an hour of the Obamas as they watched the parade and I felt badly for them and for my voyeurism. I feel weak, low, tired, and my eyelids have become dams to oceans of tears I can't seem to let out. I'm sure it's seasonal. I'm sure it's fears. I'm sure it's the unknown of the future. I'm sure I have the confidence, courage, beauty, talent, ability for the next part of the journey... I just don't know where those are hiding right now.

Shit sucks, man.


Anonymous said...

I'm sure you do, too, lo -- hang in there. Sometimes you just gotta ride it out, let it pass.


Anonymous said...

I love you, sweetie.

I know you can't take it to the bank, but still very valuable.


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