22, turn
i do not have a sketchbook that i am satisfied with in my apartment, and absolutely none here. this is unacceptable so i'll take care of that early tomorrow, i think. i guess it's pretty obvious that the beginning of this year was magnificent, while the rest of it rather blew. Actually, the remainder of the year magnificently sucked.
And boy, the things that im missing in that stupid hungry hole. I hate imagining horrible things. Also uncontrollable tears. And finally understanding those fucking songs about hearts aching. And the spiteful ice. and the severe boredom and pressure of depression. i used to be like "oh well get over it and prove something". it's like it's fucking impossible now. not this particular phase, but, you know all the other ones just waiting. the ones that get even worse since things can only get better in between. "it's all a matter of perception, man." that answer is out of the question, man. it's the easy one and this thing isnt easy. i know it's for the best, but i can so it can rest a bit. why isnt this fuling creative bangings? unusual business. my life is a good one what the fuck is the matter. theres no reason to be so pathetically sad.
it's not always like that, though, sometimes it's actually quite nice once the anxiety lifts a little. or i've lifted it a little. even if i'm confused, i know that sometimes it really isn't nearly bad at all.
also, i'm not crazy.
And boy, the things that im missing in that stupid hungry hole. I hate imagining horrible things. Also uncontrollable tears. And finally understanding those fucking songs about hearts aching. And the spiteful ice. and the severe boredom and pressure of depression. i used to be like "oh well get over it and prove something". it's like it's fucking impossible now. not this particular phase, but, you know all the other ones just waiting. the ones that get even worse since things can only get better in between. "it's all a matter of perception, man." that answer is out of the question, man. it's the easy one and this thing isnt easy. i know it's for the best, but i can so it can rest a bit. why isnt this fuling creative bangings? unusual business. my life is a good one what the fuck is the matter. theres no reason to be so pathetically sad.
it's not always like that, though, sometimes it's actually quite nice once the anxiety lifts a little. or i've lifted it a little. even if i'm confused, i know that sometimes it really isn't nearly bad at all.
also, i'm not crazy.