Every living creature dies alone
Is anyone still reading this?
Well...it doesn't really matter. I need to keep writing. Today is Wednesday. I woke up pissy this morning, and I don't feel much better now. I haven't eaten enough. I know that. I also know I didn't sleep well. I know I had a double shot with dinner, and an Espresso cooler later in Royal Oak. I know why I feel bad. I feel bad because school's starting soon. I'm dreading the massive amounts of work I'm going to have to do. Every essay. Every fucking math chapter. I feel bad because I have a coffee drinking problem and resulting insomnia. I feel bad because I don't eat enough. I can identify the causes of my discomfort, but I can't do much about any of it. It's exhausting to make lifestyle changes. Even little things seem exhausting to me these days. It's exhausting to keep up with my body's constant needs. I'm do damn lazy to do much of anything. Heh. And there will be school soon. Tests and fucking lectures.
I'm glad we all really did get together for lunch today. I'm glad I finally fixed my bike. Apart from that, today was miserable. I put in my driving and my driver's ed. I came home. I talked to the mommy. The mommy made me feel better, but stated that she had become substantially concerned. She told me that I'd probably feel better if I changed some things about how I lived. She told me I'd feel better once I got into the school year. She told me to focus on the things I enjoy, rather than the fact that they will end. Yiayia thinks I'm on drugs. That's the easiest explanation; the explanation that requires the least empathy. That's the explanation Yiayia chose.
I'm going to get more sleep. That will relieve the acute misery. I can cut my caffeine intake. I can get more to eat so I'm not hypoglycemic half the time. But I can't change the way I look at the world. That's just the way I am. As much as I try, I can't fully enjoy myself. My eyes are always a couple hours ahead. My thoughts focus on the long term effects of the decisions I make. They focus on the time at which I have to be home, and the clock that's slowly killing my evening; the calander that's slowly killing my summer. My mind jumps to my father. Is there something I forgot to do at home? Will there be hell to pay later? My mind jumps to all sorts of stupid things. Do I know the music for my next viola lesson? Am I doing ok in driver's ed? All of this stupid irrelevant shit while I'm talking and laughing with all of you. All of this relentlessly. Naggingly. It corrodes. My mind is just set up this way. Genetically. Chemically. This is how I'm built. And you all make fun of me when I'm cranky, because you know how easy it is to get a rise out of me. How do you think that makes me feel?! Do you think I'm going to snap out of it?! Or do you just think it's funny to see me stab myself? Or wrist bang? Say the word to Mikey, and he'll do a trick! FUCK YOU!!!!! Just leave me alone if you can't say anything nice. I'll get better...I promise. I don't deserve your shit. I can get better. But I can't change how my mind works. If you hate that so much or think it's so comical that you have ot make fun of me, then fuck off. I don't want to see you again. I can be alone.
Happy August,
Mike
Well...it doesn't really matter. I need to keep writing. Today is Wednesday. I woke up pissy this morning, and I don't feel much better now. I haven't eaten enough. I know that. I also know I didn't sleep well. I know I had a double shot with dinner, and an Espresso cooler later in Royal Oak. I know why I feel bad. I feel bad because school's starting soon. I'm dreading the massive amounts of work I'm going to have to do. Every essay. Every fucking math chapter. I feel bad because I have a coffee drinking problem and resulting insomnia. I feel bad because I don't eat enough. I can identify the causes of my discomfort, but I can't do much about any of it. It's exhausting to make lifestyle changes. Even little things seem exhausting to me these days. It's exhausting to keep up with my body's constant needs. I'm do damn lazy to do much of anything. Heh. And there will be school soon. Tests and fucking lectures.
I'm glad we all really did get together for lunch today. I'm glad I finally fixed my bike. Apart from that, today was miserable. I put in my driving and my driver's ed. I came home. I talked to the mommy. The mommy made me feel better, but stated that she had become substantially concerned. She told me that I'd probably feel better if I changed some things about how I lived. She told me I'd feel better once I got into the school year. She told me to focus on the things I enjoy, rather than the fact that they will end. Yiayia thinks I'm on drugs. That's the easiest explanation; the explanation that requires the least empathy. That's the explanation Yiayia chose.
I'm going to get more sleep. That will relieve the acute misery. I can cut my caffeine intake. I can get more to eat so I'm not hypoglycemic half the time. But I can't change the way I look at the world. That's just the way I am. As much as I try, I can't fully enjoy myself. My eyes are always a couple hours ahead. My thoughts focus on the long term effects of the decisions I make. They focus on the time at which I have to be home, and the clock that's slowly killing my evening; the calander that's slowly killing my summer. My mind jumps to my father. Is there something I forgot to do at home? Will there be hell to pay later? My mind jumps to all sorts of stupid things. Do I know the music for my next viola lesson? Am I doing ok in driver's ed? All of this stupid irrelevant shit while I'm talking and laughing with all of you. All of this relentlessly. Naggingly. It corrodes. My mind is just set up this way. Genetically. Chemically. This is how I'm built. And you all make fun of me when I'm cranky, because you know how easy it is to get a rise out of me. How do you think that makes me feel?! Do you think I'm going to snap out of it?! Or do you just think it's funny to see me stab myself? Or wrist bang? Say the word to Mikey, and he'll do a trick! FUCK YOU!!!!! Just leave me alone if you can't say anything nice. I'll get better...I promise. I don't deserve your shit. I can get better. But I can't change how my mind works. If you hate that so much or think it's so comical that you have ot make fun of me, then fuck off. I don't want to see you again. I can be alone.
Happy August,
Mike