Wednesday, April 17, 2013

On My Balcony, In Boxers, Smoking, Writing.

I regret to inform you that i am also lonely, sad and not 100% well. Surprise.

This day marks the occurrence of three or more small incidents that all brought me down, zero to negative. Singled out, each one of these problems i wouldnt mind ordinarily; shit happens every day. No one is invulnerable although id like to see whats that like one day. But brought together, shits me up like a POW on each cheek.

And since every calls for a full-blown mind-arranging session, here's me, in black and white:

I have just undergone a breakup. Dont ask if i cried. No one does. (I mean i didnt cry about the breakup). As of current writing and all the way to the posting i shall be sad like soggy fries left uneaten. Clearly, my humor only churns out darkness at this point.

The main thing that gets me every single time i think about how sad i am is the fact that getting through the DABD (Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression) stages down to the A (Acceptance) takes time. And believe me, i am rushing it. I am rushing it using the method i only used to tell my friends who have undergone breakups at one point and theyre bumming out everyone at the table. It is fast and effective but could lead to ruin. Needless to say, it is a desperate move, leave it at that.

The part where i am rushing everything to finish every stage at once may be the problem. I seem to take too long to manage anger. And the depression is driving me down the balcony (kidding). Denial, easily done. Bargaining, only with myself. And then there's Acceptance, also done. Yes, you cant skip a stage. Backlog's a bitch, yes.

Obviously, i have a lot going on in my mind, and a little going on in the bed. Maybe i'll leave my problems out there for the world to deal with.

Anyway. So the hard part's over. This would have to be the most raw i've ever been, and judge all you can about how i really am in real life, i dont fucking care. I have a lot on my mind right now. Yes, Blogger, don't judge me.

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AND HERE, some good news:

I am rediscovering myself. And i have found out that i like to walk around alone naked while smoking and writing. Please knock before entering. Do knock.

I am more addicted to coffee than before. It drives me restless without the occasional swig of water. Also, Florence + The Machine has found a way to talk to my inner person, much like how Amy Winehouse does. Also, that Norah Jones puts me to sleep better than any pill could. I am extremely difficult to put to sleep. She doesnt bore but inflict calmness. I am asleep three songs into the album.

I am terribly sorry for my bad writing (again). But luckily i have no editor, and luckily-er, i dont give a fuck. No one reads this shit.

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What a joy to be free. Of course being free also means being alone, but happiness is just around the corner.

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