This is a sorry day. It apologizes with bouquets of sun and notes from friends, but I don’t accept. This morning I perfectly measured oatmeal and thought, today will be perfect. But I’m feeling alone and unknown. I’m feeling overwhelmed by the miles I still have to go – I can’t possibly “be” what I want to be. Have you ever felt you aren’t what you are? If that makes any sense.
I want to punch my coworkers for being so content. I finished a can of almonds. I drank cold water from the cooler – it became an icicle down my esophagus.
Yesterday, you said you love me and told me to keep faith, but I’m tired of applying myself with no return and I mean that with jobs and submissions and love. God, I’m tired of this place.
My dad posted those two photos on facebook last night and he said finding them filled him with pride and that he loves us. I’m always so surprised when he says things like that. How could he know? I’ve done bad things with my heart, my mouth, my intentions. I’m still in a place where that matters a little bit to me – what family and people think – do we grow out of that ever entirely? I can’t imagine we do.
I’m spending my day here, picking mascara from my eyelashes, plucking a few as I go along, so much of my unconscious is just waiting to get home to take this skin off.
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