(no subject)
Today has been lousy and I don't know why. The only identifiably sub-optimal thing that's happened is my attempt at dying a vest didn't work because it turns out that by "polyester/viscose blend" the label means "polyester garment made in the same factory as viscose once was".
Options for why today has been lousy:
1. It has done nothing but fucking rain.
2. I am dissatisfied with the day's writing.
3. I have put on enough weight to make me "overweight" and I resent how much I am going to have to cut out of my diet to rectify this.
4. I'm bleeding (not a huge amount) out of a hole which has still not been sewn up because I cannot get referred to have anything done to myself for ages and other people TM are marching ahead with surgeries and bastard fucking bloody hormones and I feel left behind and furious but no more so than usual...
5. Walking to the cafe with Jess wore me out more than is reasonable.
6. I read an article this morning that basically accepted that explosions and gunfire are our unavoidable future and decided that we instead need to be taught how to handle that. Part of me hopes this will go the way of Nuclear War Information Films; part of me thinks people now living in war zones probably thought the same thing.
Blog Post
The Alchemy of Reading.
In short I am FAT and TIRED and FED UP WITH MY BODY and OUT OF PATIENCE and BROKE and HUNGRY and NO ONE LIKES MY WRITING and I LOOK LIKE ARSE and I DON'T LIKE DYSPHORIA and I STILL FEEL LIKE I CAN'T TALK TO ANYONE ABOUT THE LATTER even though I have been having a highly entertaining conversation with Sergio about prosthetic dongs. Also I feel like a WHINY LITTLE BITCH for not being overpoweringly grateful that any progress has happened at all in my life, and my BACK HURTS FROM TRYING TO DYE THE VEST and.
And I have some ideas for next year's book (Jess curtly asked why I was thinking about that when I'm still writing this one: because writing makes the writing brain think more), and Natsume's Book of Friends is pleasantly diverting and doesn't require much brain power so I'm taking a break from reading Out as the latter is UNRELENTINGLY GRIM.
Options for why today has been lousy:
1. It has done nothing but fucking rain.
2. I am dissatisfied with the day's writing.
3. I have put on enough weight to make me "overweight" and I resent how much I am going to have to cut out of my diet to rectify this.
4. I'm bleeding (not a huge amount) out of a hole which has still not been sewn up because I cannot get referred to have anything done to myself for ages and other people TM are marching ahead with surgeries and bastard fucking bloody hormones and I feel left behind and furious but no more so than usual...
5. Walking to the cafe with Jess wore me out more than is reasonable.
6. I read an article this morning that basically accepted that explosions and gunfire are our unavoidable future and decided that we instead need to be taught how to handle that. Part of me hopes this will go the way of Nuclear War Information Films; part of me thinks people now living in war zones probably thought the same thing.
Blog Post
The Alchemy of Reading.
In short I am FAT and TIRED and FED UP WITH MY BODY and OUT OF PATIENCE and BROKE and HUNGRY and NO ONE LIKES MY WRITING and I LOOK LIKE ARSE and I DON'T LIKE DYSPHORIA and I STILL FEEL LIKE I CAN'T TALK TO ANYONE ABOUT THE LATTER even though I have been having a highly entertaining conversation with Sergio about prosthetic dongs. Also I feel like a WHINY LITTLE BITCH for not being overpoweringly grateful that any progress has happened at all in my life, and my BACK HURTS FROM TRYING TO DYE THE VEST and.
And I have some ideas for next year's book (Jess curtly asked why I was thinking about that when I'm still writing this one: because writing makes the writing brain think more), and Natsume's Book of Friends is pleasantly diverting and doesn't require much brain power so I'm taking a break from reading Out as the latter is UNRELENTINGLY GRIM.