She Looked Like She Didn't Care

At any moment you have a choice to let a train of thought drag you into self-loathing and your next therapist appointment, or you can just let it go.

This weekend, thank god I chose letting go.

The urge to kick someone or nail yourself to a cross will still be there, but there's a sort of wonderful and perverse satisfaction from thinking about what a bad bitch you are when some force is trying to convince you otherwise.

So bring it on, bitches; I'll just smile and let it slide.

9 Below Zero

Today is one of those days, when your brakes don't work, you're sleep deprived, and you learn and then dramatically try to accept your interpersonal relationships.

It's hard to recover from this shit sometimes, but I'm just betting on the fact that I'll have a way of bouncing back.

And it's easy to forget what doesn't matter so much in life ... and hard to think that maybe now it does.

..... You're Not Supposed to Tell a Lie

On my rug face-up, fisting a cocktail and Mr. Williamson is on the turntable.

"Going Down Slow..."

Good way to fake turning the world off and out.

You can never really do it for real though. That's the bitch and the beauty of life.

Drinking Water and Keepin it Real

Stuck in a Queens apartment intimidated by the cold is a perfect time to map out what ways I messed up in the last few months and concoct some hopeful fixes. Self-loathing is tempting, but that's not what the new year is about.

It's about losing weight, taking classes, flushing your cigarettes, eating less Ramen Noodles.

Since none of these are on my radar, I'm choosing instead to drink more water, learn to do a split, and stop that familiar victim babble.

As it stands I have two looseleaf pages of illegible brain babble in partial ven-diagram style.

But I have a tall glass of water and I'm feeling optimistic.