"Like He Was The Hat And Those Songs Were The Rabbit" or "The Earth Is Warmer When You Laugh"

I am so tired of having to take care of this silly physical being. Why can't I just run around in cowboy boots without arch support, tense my shoulders over a computer for 6 hours a day, stress myself out,consume nothing but lattes and beer, and sleep two hours a night? Why is that so fucking bad for me? Come on, it's 2009, why haven't we figured this out?

Well, since it appears that the above scenario doesn't bode well for feeling very healthy, I certainly haven't. I've been hitting that stage where you meet people on the sidewalk and they say, "Oh hey, you look tired!" At which point you just want to say something like, "Well thanks," or punch them. I've begun craving the Victorian Era where it would be perfectly acceptable for me to walk into class, discover that my test in not in fact a week away but is today, and just faint onto a nearby couch. But nobody invests in fainting couches these days.

Inside all of this physical abuse my emotional center has turned into something resembling a poor little bruised peach. I just can't ever turn off these pesky little neurons that keep firing and re-firing, analyzing and over-analyzing, alternating between being convinced that my needy-little-self is what makes me so gosh-darned-lovable, and perpetual loathing of how that needy-little-self might be the thing standing between me and what I want. The other night I sat across from him while he talked about music, and wrote down every word he said. God, it's just as tiring to try and take care of this emotional peach as it is to take care of my vital organs.


More than an adequate fainting couch, I've been craving escape. I want to hide, disappear. Instead of work, school, friends, parties, I want to sit in my room and organize my music files, read all the books I've got but have never read, paint my desk, sew a dress. I just want to lock myself in my room for days and stay in bed under my big, white comforter and pretend I'm in the clouds.

My strange sleep schedule has lent itself to intense and frequent dreaming. Every time I wake up I'm so disappointed that there's this big, great, free adventure happening in my head, and I have to miss it so that I can do things like eat, work, and live.

<3gen