there’s some uber creepy asian magician on tv with his arms wrapped around some chick’s neck and super sleazy euro porno music in the background playing… disorienting.

sunday. 7:50pm. sometimes i think the problem really is me. working at shitosa has only made me more aware of how flawed of a human i am. there’s so many things i don’t know how to do, that even if i learn i still need time to adjust and do well in; in the reality and aftermath of being an adult, it almost seems folly to assume that one should only do things that one is good at. there are several things i am good at, but for each there are a dozen more that i can’t do

there’s a deep sigh caught in between; the constriction of my throat grappling at my futility to talk sense into people and myself, everything that stands between me and things i love… almost feels self-imposed at times

im sitting n the sofa and typing away; my materialism notwithstanding, life seems too complicated. moments ago it was merely a rendering of reality. that each day you spend this much energy simply trying to catch up with things you aren’t even remotely interested in.

i wonder… if he was alive.. what he would say. he always knew exactly what i needed to hear.

i fear. i fear i am making the wrong decisions, saying the wrong words, doing the wrong things again. putting faith in the wrong person, wishing so much to want a life i could dream about the i make all the wrong turns

tomorrow is monday. i have to go to work again. the last 2-3 days seem to have disappear into nothingness and aren’t worthy of speaking of. i wish i wish i wish

and there is no substance behind all this

i wanted to make him happy but now all i seem to do is make him sad. he said maybe… he shouldn’t say anything… because everything seems to make me upset…

shouldn’t the same apply to him too? i should just.. be quiet…

where’s the love i know we both felt?

amidst the fog the sweetness disintegrates and becomes part of the mist that blinds me.

tell me something good

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