Same old me again, today...
Feeling pretty pathetic right about now. I'm absolutely miserable and I can't seem to pinpoint the exact cause. I'm convinced that it's not just a singular issue, though. I'm stuck in this house with little to no recourse for even temporary escape. The only times I get to leave are when I go to look for a job or when one of my friends can drive all the way up here to the extreme northside to pick me up (which - given my friends' feduciary standing right now - isn't often). I'm getting stir-crazy and I'm completely broke, now (nope, not even a little bit of change to help me out anymore). I've got six cigarettes left, and I probably won't be able to replenish them anytime soon.
That may be a blessing in disguise... everytime I step out for a cigarette, I'm increasingly disgusted with myself for engaging in such an inherently destructive and sickening habit. What ever happened to the good little straightedge boi that I used to be? When did I let my ethics slacken enough to allow this unhealthy perversion into my life?
On top of all this, I haven't felt even remotely attractive lately, which as we all know can make you feel like utter shite. I woke up this morning and took this hugely long bath with much exfoliating and moisturizing and uberhealthy treatment. I shaved nicely, trimmed my hair (even though I did so just two days ago), and changed into freshly clean clothes (that I normally would have thought to be quite swank, even on me)... when I looked in the mirror... well... just look at the headline of this entry and you'll know exactly how I felt. I just feel grey. Maybe it's because of my clothes' color scheme of late: black, grey, white, grey, the occassional neutral khaki, and grey. When was the last time I allowed anything resembling color into my wardrobe?
Okay, maybe all this hypersensitivity about my appearance is because it's Thursday and John still hasn't called or emailed me (oh yeah, since I didn't post about it, he and I went on a date last Saturday). It's not like I set myself up for a fall this time, really... but damn. I didn't allow myself to get too hopeful or allow my idealism to run away with me (which tends to be a bit of a modus operandi I have about boiz... yeah, I'm pathetic, truly), which I guess is sparing me a lot of hystrionics right about now, but this still fucking hurts to know that a boi who was frankly not too high up on the food chain isn't interested... which is really fuckin contradictory to the way he was behaving Saturday.
I'm just sick of being miserable. I'm sick of feeling inadequate and being made to feel like I'm some sort of horrible screw-up. Nothing I do seems to be right, and it comes out seeming like it's somehow my fault. The worst part is that I'm starting to believe a lot of it. I mean... there's gotta be something horribly wrong with me if all this shit's going like it is. Fuck that. I just feel like I have this inner core that is still strong, still fighting, still daring to hope... but it has to drag the rest of me along - deadweight... the majority of me that's just given up. I'm sick and tired of crying myself to sleep, which I've done the last three nights. I'm sick of feeling weak. I'm just sick and tired, period.
Oh yeah... and the nightmares started up again last night... craptacular.
That may be a blessing in disguise... everytime I step out for a cigarette, I'm increasingly disgusted with myself for engaging in such an inherently destructive and sickening habit. What ever happened to the good little straightedge boi that I used to be? When did I let my ethics slacken enough to allow this unhealthy perversion into my life?
On top of all this, I haven't felt even remotely attractive lately, which as we all know can make you feel like utter shite. I woke up this morning and took this hugely long bath with much exfoliating and moisturizing and uberhealthy treatment. I shaved nicely, trimmed my hair (even though I did so just two days ago), and changed into freshly clean clothes (that I normally would have thought to be quite swank, even on me)... when I looked in the mirror... well... just look at the headline of this entry and you'll know exactly how I felt. I just feel grey. Maybe it's because of my clothes' color scheme of late: black, grey, white, grey, the occassional neutral khaki, and grey. When was the last time I allowed anything resembling color into my wardrobe?
Okay, maybe all this hypersensitivity about my appearance is because it's Thursday and John still hasn't called or emailed me (oh yeah, since I didn't post about it, he and I went on a date last Saturday). It's not like I set myself up for a fall this time, really... but damn. I didn't allow myself to get too hopeful or allow my idealism to run away with me (which tends to be a bit of a modus operandi I have about boiz... yeah, I'm pathetic, truly), which I guess is sparing me a lot of hystrionics right about now, but this still fucking hurts to know that a boi who was frankly not too high up on the food chain isn't interested... which is really fuckin contradictory to the way he was behaving Saturday.
I'm just sick of being miserable. I'm sick of feeling inadequate and being made to feel like I'm some sort of horrible screw-up. Nothing I do seems to be right, and it comes out seeming like it's somehow my fault. The worst part is that I'm starting to believe a lot of it. I mean... there's gotta be something horribly wrong with me if all this shit's going like it is. Fuck that. I just feel like I have this inner core that is still strong, still fighting, still daring to hope... but it has to drag the rest of me along - deadweight... the majority of me that's just given up. I'm sick and tired of crying myself to sleep, which I've done the last three nights. I'm sick of feeling weak. I'm just sick and tired, period.
Oh yeah... and the nightmares started up again last night... craptacular.