badges ad flags
a story
selected parts from the art of color and design. i dont expect anyone to read that, its mainly for my own benefit.
unsweetened tea, fruit after workouts. eggs around noon.
sleeping bag, army blanket.
i have the capacity for so many complex things.
some simple tasks take everything i have.
april 3rd or maybe 5th, a friday. i sit in a restaurant back to the crowd. i need to stare at the wall. i want to see no one else. "joe why dont you sit on the other side of the table next to your brother and i'll sit there?" i do as i'm told. now i'm staring at fifty three people in the restaurant, i counted. it is loud, my eyes darting to try to get a grasp of the situation. we order food, five of us, enough appetizers to count as a meal in itself. i touch none of it. fifty six people, two tables cleared and were refilled. the food arrives. i feel sick. i can't eat, i will throw up everywhere. the food is good, i discover later. i sit uncomfortable having a low level panic attack as i always do in public. i hide the horrid pain. i want to crawl into a black void and be away from sound and people. i want my brain to stop. its sending pulsing anxiety to my insides. this is the exact same feeling as public speaking, being on stage, the center of attention. everyone is looking at me, i notice everything, i cant learn to let details go. forty nine people, its still packed in the restaurant. i want to leave, in fact i never wanted to be there. no one listens when i say i dont want to go, and i wont eat, and i am not hungry. my stomach is in my throat and i swallow it down. my mouth is dry. my eyes shoot around looking for escape routes, making sure they haven't changed. i hate eating in public, it is the the worst. what a fucking nightmare. eating is so disgusting. i wish i never had to go through with it, what a waste of time, and to do it in public is torture. i want to vomit and black out, that sounds like heaven. i am unable to follow the stupid small talk going on at the table, they are still eating, jesus its been almost an hour.
the next night i recieve a call asking if i want to do it again, go out and eat. dont be weird this time and join us.
fuck that.
joe
selected parts from the art of color and design. i dont expect anyone to read that, its mainly for my own benefit.
unsweetened tea, fruit after workouts. eggs around noon.
sleeping bag, army blanket.
i have the capacity for so many complex things.
some simple tasks take everything i have.
april 3rd or maybe 5th, a friday. i sit in a restaurant back to the crowd. i need to stare at the wall. i want to see no one else. "joe why dont you sit on the other side of the table next to your brother and i'll sit there?" i do as i'm told. now i'm staring at fifty three people in the restaurant, i counted. it is loud, my eyes darting to try to get a grasp of the situation. we order food, five of us, enough appetizers to count as a meal in itself. i touch none of it. fifty six people, two tables cleared and were refilled. the food arrives. i feel sick. i can't eat, i will throw up everywhere. the food is good, i discover later. i sit uncomfortable having a low level panic attack as i always do in public. i hide the horrid pain. i want to crawl into a black void and be away from sound and people. i want my brain to stop. its sending pulsing anxiety to my insides. this is the exact same feeling as public speaking, being on stage, the center of attention. everyone is looking at me, i notice everything, i cant learn to let details go. forty nine people, its still packed in the restaurant. i want to leave, in fact i never wanted to be there. no one listens when i say i dont want to go, and i wont eat, and i am not hungry. my stomach is in my throat and i swallow it down. my mouth is dry. my eyes shoot around looking for escape routes, making sure they haven't changed. i hate eating in public, it is the the worst. what a fucking nightmare. eating is so disgusting. i wish i never had to go through with it, what a waste of time, and to do it in public is torture. i want to vomit and black out, that sounds like heaven. i am unable to follow the stupid small talk going on at the table, they are still eating, jesus its been almost an hour.
the next night i recieve a call asking if i want to do it again, go out and eat. dont be weird this time and join us.
fuck that.
joe