It’s Good Friday, and it’s freakin’ hot in this dining room. Then again I am sitting in a fluffy dressing gown next to a radiator that’s burning even though I’ve already (hopefully) turned it off.
No writing’s been done, but it’s always difficult to get back into – and I don’t particularly want to write Recto Verso at the moment. I should probably sort myself out; the green book that has been left at home has all the notes for RV in it and I’m kinda lost without it.
In other news, I feel gross. Gross and stuffy and warm and fat. Urgh. I wish it would change. Hager mentioned the other day that when I had the Halloween-Break Down I yelled: “I’m hideous!” It’s amusing to think of myself sobbing that, and I can tell exactly what would have been going through my head at that point. Hehehe, so self centred, self pitying, insecure.
Why do I laugh at that? It’s not funny.
Can’t help it; just in my nature not to accept emotions.
It’s just so frustrating, I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do. Not that I try very hard to change my ways, and every time I go back to school I say “this time it’ll be different.” This time, I’ll try. Determination. Self-control. Willingness. None of that shit’s ever worked.What is wrong with me? Here comes the roller-coaster again, up and down, round and round, in and out. Just let me get off. I want to get off, and be happy with my body, my life, my mind, my situation.
Is it so difficult for that to happen?
But I know the answer to my own question. It’s not. It’s not that hard, I’m just not trying.
try. try. try a little harder you fucking twat, waste of space.
It’s no wonder no one wants you.
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