spring hurts sometimes

I have appointments with two psychology professionals and one medical doctor this week.

Monk playing piano helps smooth things out during difficult weeks.

I realized the other day that the week is my basic unit of time. I think in terms of weekdays and weekends, and what happens on what days. I really do not notice months or years. Could this be a problem?

I’m not sure I like being at D’s very much lately. The patio atmosphere means that I never actually have a conversation with one person, even when I really need to. Someone else always shows up and it’s time to tell jokes or tell work stories instead of whatever happens. Or someone more important than me shows up and I feel small. It’s high school.

I haven’t smoked in a couple days and I don’t really notice that. This seems good to know that I enjoy smoking but it doesn’t seem to be a constant requirement. Same with alcohol. Haven’t wanted any, haven’t had any for a bit.

The Rickie Lee Jones song “Satellites” keeps popping into my head, as does “The Kids Are All Right” by the Who.

If I had what you wanted, I’d give it to you, you know. You do know, don’t you?

irc QOTD

Citizen_X: This Dallas thing is weighing on my mind for this weekend. Do I want to drive five hours to see the Violent Femmes play an afternoon St. Patrick’s parade?
ignatz: you could get green vomit on you
Citizen_X: I think I will instead listen to /Add It Up/ whilst sitting in a bathtub of ice until my ass goes numb.

it's an imitation counterfeit

I betray others; others betray me. The cock crows three times and I’m Christ and Peter both. And so are you, so are you.

I realized the other day that my worst weakness is my hatred of weakness, in myself and others. What to do?

realitylost is a kind of saint because she gives me Half a Food, often. Thanks Susie.

My dreams lately are full of the worst emotional experiences: beloved family members despising me and openly deriding me, deadly diseases, terrible mistakes, friends in great distress. Sleep was never so stressful. But then, you know, the rest of the day is somewhat similar if less ornately horrible.

I have added yet another medical professional to my life; I have become interesting, it seems.

After these warm sunny days lately the fog rushes in like an angry linebacker and the temperature drops 30 degrees and everyone is surprised, although this happens every year.

Tonight on the patio I was in the middle of a gaggle of teens and 20somethings, nice enough kids mostly. I remember despising most of them a while back, but there’s a big difference between 17 and 20.

My irrational self - you know, the one that’s in charge - believes that I am cursed for life to offer myself to those who don’t want me.

Read any good books lately?