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Mr. Self-Destruct


So I don’t know where I am right now. I mean I had a pretty decent day today—did some creative writing, some reading, some cleaning, and just in general felt good about myself. Then I log online and a few hours go out the window, I think about the interview I sat for yesterday (which I’ll write about some other day), and I get completely turned around, the screen gets all blurry and glass-like and the sobs come because it’s not just about the interview it’s about a whole hell of a lot more than a single interview, I go away for awhile, do the aforementioned writing, reading, and cleaning, and I get online again and read a few bullshit posts about writing by people who should just write a book already and fill the pages with their bullshit opinions about writing, and here I am turned around again, in real bad shape angry and kind of not wanting to be here at all in any way. And I’m not this kind of person. I never used to be this kind of downer person who couldn’t ever look on the fucking bright side but somehow here I am, this is what I have become, every month I see my name in block print on prescription bottles and this is me now this is supposedly what I’m about. My life is measured out in doses of 60, 90, 135, and I don’t want to do this anymore . I am tired of being the creep the crazy person the one who needs to be handled with kids gloves tired of being humored tired of being tolerated tired of friendships that are not genuine tired especially of being loyal so foolishly fucking loyal putting myself out there giving my time and getting nothing in return

I’m sorry.
I’m not doing this an. ymore



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