" I don’t do the things they do, or play the games they play, or like the things they like—and I don’t want to. So they don’t like me. That’s all.
Feel so useless…now that I have the time I’m trying to get going on rewriting one of my old books, but I’m just having so much trouble trying to figure out how to start. In every other draft I sort of jumped right into it, but I realized that that’s not going to be all that effective for the way it is now.
I keep just sitting and staring at a blank page and then coming up with nothing. And then I go online. And then I get really mad at myself for wasting my time doing nothing online all day. And then the day is over and nothing has been accomplished and I’m just like “All those songs about growing up are true”.
Anyway, tomorrow I’m cleaning parts of my grandma’s house for her. She wants to pay me. On the one hand I don’t want her to pay me because I know she’s also giving me graduation money, and she’s also already just paid for so much for me when she didn’t have to. But on the other hand money is always nice since I left my old summer job with a big “fuck you” last summer and couldn’t go back even if I wanted to. Which I don’t.
My uncle used to live in Salt Lake City. He lived in a huge, beautiful house that had a mountain the backyard. In the front, it overlooked the city. One night we watched distant fireworks from his porch. We visited when I was about twelve years old.
At one point during our visit, everyone went out, I don’t remember where, but I stayed inside on my own. The house had these big, big windows in front. And I think the reason I didn’t go out with everyone else was because the sky was dark and I figured it was going to rain.
It didn’t rain, but there was a tremendous lightning storm. And despite the fact that I am terrified like a child of lightning and thunder, I stood there in the living room and watched through the windows. I didn’t go too close to them, and every time lightning struck I jumped and shrunk back a little. It scared the hell out of me, but it was so beautiful that I couldn’t make myself go and hide in one of the cozy basement rooms where there were no windows.
Wallowing music at level orange. Keep watch for level red: Warning signs are “Comfortably Numb”, “Macy’s Day Parade”, or “Goodbye Cruel World” on repeat.
I wish I knew how to let go of anger, because sometimes it feels like there’s a black hole in my chest, dragging things into it until they’re destroyed.
I don’t even mean it figuratively, I actually keep feeling this weird pulling feeling in my chest when I get emotional lately. Maybe I’m just going to die or something.