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“That is not it at all,

That is not what I meant, at all.”

--T.S. Eliot, The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock

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The Awesome Power of Procrastination

*Trigger Warning: self-harm The power of procrastination is so awesome that even though I have been without Internet access for several hours and I have things that I think I want to do, I have spent that time lying on top of my bed thinking about how I would do all the things I want to do if I were to do them. Very productive. I think that the ideas I have are worth so much more in my head, I can fetishize every negative feeling and pretend that it makes me special or interesting in some way. But when the thoughts become words that I type out and read back, I realise how banal everything about me is. That's probably the real reason writing blog posts and writing in my journal gets a little harder every time. Here is a quick list of the things I should be doing right now: On Tuesday I had a very intense dream that was terrifying enough to make me feel slightly separate from my body all week. Even now, everything feels a little unreal and abnormal; I haven't stopped
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The Infinite Loop

The last light to go out, went out.

"The traps we fall into: to want praise... to avoid criticism... to want success... to avoid losing... to want happiness... to avoid sadness... to want acclaim... to avoid anonymity... Suffering ends when desire ends - thus the ropes"
--Randall Brown(Sick)

I don't want to fight. Deep down inside, I don't want to get better. I have no desire to desire happiness. I was lonely child,a lonely teenager, a lonely adult. I was comfortable in my loneliness and being happy is what ultimately brought the suffering. I've thought about it, all of it. I remember all the levels of hell I've been to. And I remember what it like to feel connected and loved. I'm bored with all of it.

I'm sleeping with a bottle of vodka. Literally. There is a bottle of vodka in my bed where the man I love used to be. I'm strangely comforted by the complete detachment from reality. I'm cutting down on the eating, every time I eat something, I come back to the real world a little bit. I want to avoid that. Reality is a prison,I don't like knowing I'm in it. I want to be sick out loud. I want my body to be as broken as my heart is. I like making my pain so physical that anyone who cares sees it.

It won't work. It never works. I've been doing these same things for almost a decade and no one ever cares(it's gross that I'm one of those girls who is always begging for love. Fucking gross). I'm freaking out because I can't get the person I want? I'm acting spoiled and I should be shot.

"Nothing ever ends, ever settles in this world. And I'm so sick and tired of forever"
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