My Friend of Misery

Oh, god. I’ve been ranting off on myspace, but those are like muted versions of how I really feel. And people will ask me “what’s wrong?” But I don’t wanna have to repeat myself. The same thing is wrong today that was wrong yesterday. Except that time is passing and these problems are still here, unresolved, for longer and longer periods of time.

On most days I feel like crawling under my desk. On weekends I feel like sitting in my parked car alone with my CD player. The need for a cigarette and alcohol grows stronger.

I know that for the most part, I look and act chipper. It’s not an act, I am in a good mood most of the time. It’s the sign that I’m just upset at my current circumstances and have not yet sunk to the level of a full blown depression. I can be happy when I can forget about my life for a few moments. I just don’t talk about these things because company hates misery.

I’m fine, really I am, I’m just gonna go take a Xanex and crawl under my desk for awhile and I’ll be right as rain in about 15 minutes.


One response to “My Friend of Misery

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