Snap
I didn't want to go to welfare today.
So I didn't.
But I didn't want to lie.
So I caught a cold.
I'm still not sure how I pulled that off.
But my throat hurts something terrible.
Maybe it's all the singing.
I can sing Fortune My Foe, in two octaves, solidly.
Need to work on the next two verses.
It isn't a song getting sung at Practicum, I don't think.
Oops.
I need a job. I need a job. I need a job.
I had a little breakdown at the Artist yesterday over it.
I don't know what to do about it.
Something flipped, and the world is crashing down, as it does.
I could blame it on February, but in this case it's as much that it's just time.
She screams.
Sometimes, I really think he likes Sarah better than me.
That shouldn't bother me. But it does.
She's at least good for something.
I can't think anymore. I don't do anything.
I'm stuck. Mud and flaps. Squish.
I've gone for two walks in my head.
I'm done with winter. I want to be outside without getting exhausted.
Walk, walk. Move until the noise stops.
Or stop. Stopping's not an option.
Move bitch.
C to E. Working on F. Keep moving.
Something something.
Promises you break you still believe
All of your weight, it falls on me
It brings me down
Fuck. |
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