posted on Monday, Feb. 12, 2007 @ 12:50
"mellon collie and the infinite sadness," smashing pumpkins
"i put a spell on you," marilyn manson
"strangelove," depeche mode
"hear the wind blow," britta phillips & dean wareham
"waiting for the carnival," the rosebuds
yesterday afternoon i realized i'd forgotten to go see james duval at the drafthouse downtown. i emerged from the bedroom and yelled, "fuck!" into the hallway. owen asked what was the matter, and i explained the situation. i growled and stomped my feet repeatedly, listening to the clicking my cheap flip flops made on the tile. out of nowhere a crazy rage overcame me, and i punched the wall in the hallway. the angle was funny, so now i have a cut on my knuckle. i wasted $30 and an opportunity to meet someone cool all because my memory is useless.
i returned to the bedroom and got too high, but i managed to keep the coughing to a minimum (i'm still having to use my inhaler every day). it lasted for hours. i lay upside down in bed watching inuyasha the whole time. clean towels were folded on the footboard, so the half that tima wasn't sleeping on i used as a pillow.
as i lay there dizzy and trying to keep up with the band of seven's actions, i was overcome with a very familiar hollow feeling of sadness and loneliness. i got so tired of existing in this nasty shell where the slightest thing upsets me to the point of physical injury, where i alienate owen when my emotions become uncontrollable, where i wish my family would move to town so i had somewhere to go and someone to see on a saturday night. it was a calming suicidal mood much more pleasant than the violent ones i've so often felt. i sighed and wondered what was the use. i pet tima's soft pink nose and told myself she'd be fine without me. i eventually came full-circle and thought, rather than "what's the point of living," "what's the point of dying?"
pausing inuyasha, i left the bedroom. i stood in the foyer with my arms crossed and stared at owen. he repeatedly asked, "what?" to which i repeatedly muttered, "nothing." this went on for quite some time as i stood with my arms crossed, perfectly unwavering in our perfectly quiet apartment.
i ate some chicken and mashed potatoes. when the first round wore off, i just smoked some more. this time wasn't as successful with the lack of coughing.
part of me really wants my family to move to denver (because of doug's job). it would be a good excuse to move myself, as i've wanted to do for some time now. i'd fancied seattle, but denver's halfway there, right? that way i'd know my family, but no one else. i would have a good excuse for why my phone never rings and why i'm home from friday afternoon until monday morning.
even if someone were to call, i would probably not pick up. in true masochistic form, i set myself up for my own destruction.