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04.08.2002 || 01h56 Depressing fricking entry. You might want to skip this one... Escapism: after rehearsal to-night (and an especially retarded one at that, as the slut so eloquently said), I went with the Origamist and the Soprano to Movieland, and thence to the Soprano's place to watch Cube, which I absolutely loved. I came away from it wishing I'd seen it on the big screen and that I'd written it. I don't know if I could ever have come up with it -- in fact, I'm willing to bet that I wouldn't have. It was a pleasant night spent with people I like and enjoy talking with, which is a big thing these days. I hold on to my joys these days because they seem to come less and less frequently. I guess it's time to face facts and admit something: I'm really, really depressed. I've been trying to put a brave face on and seem invincible, but I'm feeling extremely delicate right now. I'm finding unemployment to be more and more of a drag every minute, let alone every day. I haven't slept a full night in a few weeks, and I'm afraid to fill out those stupid little cards they send you. I know I'm not a lone, but I don't want to be here right now. I want to have my girlfriend come into town this weekend and be able to ply her with gifts and dinners out at stupidly overpriced vegetarian restaurants (because there is no other kind), I want to take the Origamist and Best Friend out for a night on the town to say thanks for being so supportive, I want to pay all my myriad bills off and eat a meal in a caf� or a restaurant one night. I'm tired of being poor and I'm tired of being ashamed of myself. I know I paid for another two months of job-free-ness, but that's just not good enough. I'm not like this. I have my screenplays and stories and poems started, halfway done, or finished. I have used my time well. But I'm tired of telling the government everytime I leave the country or get the flu or work for a day. I'm tired of feeling like a fugitive. I am honestly depressed and I'm sorry to those who've been around me recently for lying about it, passing a flippant comment about pennilessness, then cracking a joke about something stupid to cover my arse; and I'm tired of laughing around a permanent lump in my throat. It's a lie. I'm not as strong as I try to be, and I stopped liking myself over it weeks ago. Too many wishes, these days. Too damned many. |
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shite One last little note... - 09.21.2006 de-stressing, biking and terrorism - 06.06.2006 Mildly stressed... - 05.29.2006 More crime stupidity - 05.28.2006 Scary stuff - 05.25.2006
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