A whole lot of whine
Something about the creative reuse place in berkeley made me unbearably sad. I don't know what it was. All the detritus of a life, a polaroid camera, a bucketful of candle limes, pictures, used cards, old notebooks, dental molds. Went with Leslie and for the most part just wanted to leave. I feel that way a lot lately. Dario has much to do with it. Cried in the bathroom today upon hearing that Richie got a job in the South Bay, and so Sliv will probably join him there, and everything falls into place for them. I'm so horribly jealous. I don't wish I had never met him, I'm glad I got to fall in love so passionately, but hell, we had four months together. It's not a lot of time. I'm happy I got to experience it, but I also feel somewhat screwed. That and tired.
Once bitten, twice shy. Twice bitten, four times shy. And on from there, exponentially.
I sleep too much, but it honestly feels the same to me when I'm asleep as it does when I'm awake. Sometimes I just don't want to go through with this life. Too much damn effort for not much reward. Feeling starting to slip back that, not that I would necessarily kill myself, but that I just wouldn't care that much if I died.
It was nice to be with Leslie for a while. Listened to classical music in her living room, drank tea and talked and listened to the rain. Nice, but transient, not satisfying, not life-giving. I need to get better with myself. Andrea will move to Pleasanton soon, and maybe that will help, but I'm tired of moving from hope to hope, from person to person, hoping they can help give me some meaning, some reason to keep going. I feel dead. I feel barren. I feel utterly unmotivated and cynical.
that's enough for tonight.
Once bitten, twice shy. Twice bitten, four times shy. And on from there, exponentially.
I sleep too much, but it honestly feels the same to me when I'm asleep as it does when I'm awake. Sometimes I just don't want to go through with this life. Too much damn effort for not much reward. Feeling starting to slip back that, not that I would necessarily kill myself, but that I just wouldn't care that much if I died.
It was nice to be with Leslie for a while. Listened to classical music in her living room, drank tea and talked and listened to the rain. Nice, but transient, not satisfying, not life-giving. I need to get better with myself. Andrea will move to Pleasanton soon, and maybe that will help, but I'm tired of moving from hope to hope, from person to person, hoping they can help give me some meaning, some reason to keep going. I feel dead. I feel barren. I feel utterly unmotivated and cynical.
that's enough for tonight.