art.pepper


This morning I am drinking coffee and feeling unlovable. But don't worry, I don't need your stupid-ass love anyway, except that I do. I took a turn for the worse sometime in between post-jog stretching and showering. One of my favorite hobbies is the downward spiral. It starts with a fleeting thought--I haven't written anything in a week and then continues downhill Nothing I write is funny anyway. Why did I decide to do comedy? My stomach! How did it get to be so HUGE!? Where is my checkbook? Why do I lose everything? I never do anything I say I'm going to do. Do I have to go to therapy today? I've never finished anything I set out to do. Why is he looking at me like that? Is my fly down? If I had started jogging two years ago I would be able to run faster than I do now. Then I stop and stare into space. Then I get hungry. Then I think If I were writing in my journal like I said I would, I wouldn't be getting stuck in my head right now. I would have my whole life together if I were writing in my journal. Why don't I just write in my journal?

It's astounding and exhausting.