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diaryland
2003-10-25 | 6:34 p.m.
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It's one of those days. You know the days when it's hard to do anything but wallow in your own mental feces. I've changed my surroundings, tried to think of other things. I would go to the gym but it's a game day and nothing short of BigFoot riding my tail would get me to the school today. So I've been trying to distract myself with things here and every where I turn I can only see indications of my unworthiness. In my barren ugly apartment, in my dirty little surging car, in my lard ass wardrobe, to my less than brilliant writings, to the music I haven't faced in my wannabe opera star dreams. I feel so alone. I feel like a child standing with my face pressed, distorted against glass watching life pass me by. There's nothing I can do but pound on the glass. Sometimes people see me and wave and sometime someone will even press their hand against mine from the other side of the glass. But it's always from the other side of the glass... and I am alone with my shit. I wish someone would flush the damn toilet.
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