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the wild blue yonder

Talking to Matt about travel plans.

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One step forward two steps back

Let's just call this what it is: a full-blown relapse. Bad behavior completely unleashed. Starting at step number one after ten years. Fuck. The worst part it's been this bad for over a year.

chalk up another casualty

What can I say about my contribution to the life of Thomas Crawford?

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When My Train Pulls In

I'm posting this from my phone which I am finding to be a surreal experience. I posted from an old smart phone years ago and I didn't see it ever being a good input source. In 2016 however we have finally made it. An archaic social media platform finally brought to me in a convenient form long after the death of its relevance. I digress.

So I know I frequently talk big but this time it's for real. I gotta gtfo of this house because my mother is moving at the end of the month. Tbh she kinda sprung it on me after years of talking about moving and doing nothing. I've asked her for dates and deadlines and timeframes and all she gives me is a month long heads up. For a girl who has never moved in her life. One month. To pack and organize her finances and find a place. Not to mention buy all the stuff someone who has never lived alone would own.

Then I find out she seems to have been planning to turn off the utilities and have the house foreclosed on... UM EXCUSE ME. We are fucking squatters basically don't fuck it up for me? Also just switch the bills to my name don't shut them off you fucking retard. I'm going to move but I can't leave at the exact time she's going because I wasn't sneakily planning. Also she's talking about me helping her move. Uh no.

Anyway I guess that train finally pulled in and it's time to head on out. Unless my dad makes an offer on the house that is. ;)

There's an ass load of retarded shit going on with Julia but I don't feel like opening that can of shit worms rn.
I just want like 5 bars right now I so can do a hard reset of my brain.

chalk up another failure

just indulged a very old very bad habit

Blank page

Blank pages not because they're full of promises and hope for tomorrow but blank because someone forgot to write on them. You didn't take the chance or follow your dream because of circumstance or fear. You forgot about it off. Kind of like how I forget to write in this journal.

I graduated from university and I felt energized and inspired to become a historian and get a doctorate. Now I feel doubt and restlessness and anxiety.

I'm worried I'll leave my pages blank for fear of fucking up.

Part of that is worrying about how I'd do anything so hard the way I am. The sleeping disorder that's plagued me for the past decade is just ever present. Even when I think I'm getting better it rears it's head. I'm worried about how much caffeine I'm taking and how it's affecting my body. The anxiety that's resulted from this continued exhaustion is unreal. Waking up to open at work is a struggle.

But I also think of Kurt Cobain and his stomach issues and how he powered through the pain on tour.

Figuring stuff out. Just in the drafting stage.

Full of Shit

That's p much how I am right now. Totally full of it.

I'm supposed to write in this fucking blog, and be honest and be meaningful. Ha ha fucking ha.

I just don't know what I'm doing.

Or what I wanna fucking do.


I'm listening to staind and I'm drunk on tequila and i've been wasted this whole week.

And last week.

And my whole life.

What is going on?

I don't fucking know.

a slow suicide

people always say like that from the second we're born we're already dying

but i feel like it's more like

everyday we kill ourselves a little bit more

every breath we take is one less we have left

every cigarette i light is a little suicide

every drink i take is a little suicide

every shift i work is a little suicide

except i'm full of shit because we don't have any control over any of it

you can't romanticize smokers slowly killing themselves

you can't make the opposite statement and stick an unlit cigarette in your mouth

because people who've never had a cigarette in their lives get cancer

and people smoke 2 packs a day until they're in their 90's

it doesn't matter if it's all random or pre-ordained in this aspect

it simply is

but i think the idea of a slow suicide is kind of romantic

i also think most romantic things are incredibly naive

but when you realize you'll die anyway the illusion that you have some control over it is intoxicating

Rest In Pieces

How am I?

That's the question we'r here to address isn't it?

This entry should be all about what the fuck I've been doing since I left you guys in March shouldn't it?

Then why do I feel like I don't want to say fuck all about it?

I don't want to come off as depressed or whiny or whatever. On the other hand I promised myself to be relatively honest on this blog. Do you guys ever wonder how much of the truth I'm telling you? Only I really know what I mean or what I left out half the time. Although it is hard to remember all of the nuances of the past and I probably am doing myself a disservice. As time wears on I actually end up lying to myself.

Mike died. I didn't cry. I still haven't. It's not that I'm not sad. I don't know what it is. I try not to think about that. Not that he died, but that I didn't cry. (That was actually really toeing the line of my internal censors and I'm fighting the urge to delete this.) Today my dad mentioned a blockage in my grandma's heart and I actually teared up. I thought about her actually dying and I realized that it would literally tear my entire family apart. I would miss her. Part of the gravity of my life was hers. She'd never dance the hula at my wedding if she died. I remembered her crying when they handed her my brother's flag and I realized what a great grandmother I have. And I felt like I should be feeling this way about Mike.

I think I'm going to visit her on Saturday.

I miss him a lot.

I've felt really consistently anxious lately. By lately I mean since at least my last entry. And longer if memory serves. I've actually considered getting medical advice. Which in turn makes me consider it even more since it's obviously gotten to be at the forefront. I don't know what's up with all of that. I'm trying getting high less to see if that helps.

I'm being optimistic, or at least functional, by setting short term goals.

Move out. Save money. Graduate.

And to fulfill my fucking dreams I'm making long term goals.

Roadtrip. Go back to school. Be a better fucking person.

I really gotta work on that better person bit. Because I have seen a bit of regression. And that freaks me out.

Well I also had fun this summer. I did GISHWHES and I made a friend with my one friend at work and it just makes me feel cool.