Sunday 17th January
I left my evening out early before I dissolved into tears; as I sobbed along the streets, head down, determined to get home I repeatedly attempted to compose a slightly drunken, upset text to MW#1 expressing my anguish, my anger, but I stopped myself over and over again- What was the point? I have all these thoughts buzzing round my head and I feel so very sad, but really, why bother? By expressing myself i'll only feel bad when I get no response, no giving-a-fuck.
How can I adequately express how I feel when the person in question has not indicated that they understand? I feel like I have no right to express myself, impinge upon them- I'm just the friend. Just the sad, lonely fool who's been hanging on for these last five months. Do you know what it's like to have to bottle all your feelings up, to have no outlet? I spent fifteen minutes doing my god-damned eye makeup and now i've cried it all to fuck. This is what you do to me, MW#1- You ruin my fucking eyeshadow.
I curse the day you were born.
Of course, being dorky in nature I found the black, glittery rivulets running down my face interesting, so out came my camera. I anaesthetised myself with a bowl of microwave-warmed faux Weetabix garnished with a handful of faux Coco Pops and I tried to put some sense into this rather disordered post. Fun times.
Bed, blanket, Patrick. Going to pretend the world and the sadness doesn't exist for several god-damned hours.
monky posted 262 words at 02:32 on 17/01/10
