the shelf in my closet fell down. i’m going to take this as a sign…
a sign that i have too many fucking sweaters.
friday night crafting
depression is weird in that it feels like shit when you’re in the feelings stage of it, but then you hit this point where everything is just numb and you are completely unfeeling. like you don’t care at all about what happens to you, and somewhere in between the feeling stage and the suicidal stage, you feel this warped kind of invincibility. no one can hurt you because you can’t feel anything anyway. but then again you can’t feel any joy either.
i’m certainly not saying that i miss the depression. god no. i mean, obviously i’ll struggle with it and live with it until the very end, and i have been dealing with it for what has to be seven years now, but i do miss the numbness part of it all, the times when i felt absolutely nothing at all. i was invincible, an impenetrable fortress of unfeeling. no one and nothing at all could hurt me or get through to me. i guess what i’m trying to say is, is it fucked up to miss the days when i felt nothing?
I JUST HAVE REALLY STRONG FEELINGS ABOUT ANIMAL COLLECTIVE OK
i’m so weighed down by all this work i have to do and it’s miserable.
i’m so over my birthday. it’s not for another week but i’m already over it. every year i’m disappointed. and not because i have high expectations, because i really don’t. but i’m always planning shit for other people’s birthdays. i take them to concerts, and out to dinner, and plan fucking parties for them. but i never see any return on that, unless i flat out ask someone to plan something. and that’s not how it’s supposed to be. so i’m just over it.
i have to get used to the fact that i’m the planner out of all my friends and i’m going to have to plan my birthday for the rest of my life.
all i’m saying is it would be nice to not have to do all the work for once, especially on my birthday.
so i’m going to do what i always do: have a small, uneventful dinner with my family, get criticized by my grandmother and drink until i can’t see straight. happy birthday to me.
i’m so tired of pretending to feel when i don’t feel anything, and i’m so tired of pretending to react when i don’t have a reaction. society expects a reaction so that’s why i’ve given them a reaction. but in reality, so little phases me and so little elicits a true response.
for as long as i can remember i’ve given the people what they wanted to see. a reaction at death or the hardships of a loved one. i just don’t feel things. and i’m tired of it. not the not feeling, that’s who i am. the pretending, that’s what i’m tired of.
i would rather say what i feel, explain it, if i even feel anything in the first place. because i can’t react. and i don’t feel. i hold close to me reason and coldness and explanation. so those are the tools with which i instinctively react.
so i’m going to react the way i would, instinctively, and not based on social appropriateness. it’s all to do with my affect. i’ve tried to seem “normal” in the past, but i’m sick of it. i’m different, and i don’t mind it. why would anyone mind?
drunk Sherlock and John will remain one of the best things anyone has ever written and put on television.
favorite. thing. ever.
i had a moment of unclarity
- Me: What's the thing that you play string instruments with, like the stick thing that you play a violin or a cello with?
- Kate: The stick thing.
- Me: GODDAMN *googles* A bow. It's called a bow.
- Kate: Stick thing.
- Me: Jesus, that was thick of me.
my mom said i’m becoming a hermit. like no mom i just like my alone time.
MY BEST FRIEND IS THE MOST GORGEOUS LADY
i need a new show to binge watch so that i can continue on my path of self destruction through television.
shows that i have previously binge watched have been Sherlock, Supernatural, Breaking Bad…
AS VALENTINES DAY GETS CLOSER
SOME PEOPLE ARE LIKE:
i’m drunk and i just sang sound of silver to my mom
i need another i think