(no subject)
Dec. 9th, 2004 01:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
framlingemAnd she asks me
why I'm quiet.
And he tells me
my mouth only is happy.
And he buys me a drink
And I tell him
it's okay
I'll be fine, someday.
... I feel like I've been pretending, recently. Like the Brad Pitt character in "A River Runs Throught It" who is happy happy happy all the time because he's afraid to admit he isn't.
I'm not unhappy.
Just... not happy, either, really. Lately I've been a bit spaced out, numb, like one of my really spacy days but toned down a lot, so that I can actually function without people thinking I'm stoned. (I wind up staying home on my spacy days, because it's no fun to be told 'man, you were stoned yesterday!')
It's just... everything. The world is shouting at me all of a sudden recently, and my papers sucked, and I'm going to Montreal for Christmas so that my mother can look disapproving every time I put food in my mouth, because I'm simply not trying (I only feel fat at home, and it's the only place anyone ever implies I'm ugly), and my friend M has HIV and I know people live like twenty-five years with it now, but how many people are done living at forty-six, and I don't know how I'm going to readjust again to living in a house which nearly killed me next summer, even though I love the people in it very much, and how the hell am I going to avoid The Ex when we have friends in common that I very much want to see, and will I be able to get a job because my French has gone downhill, it's not as quick anymore, and will I be able to get back to St. John's next summer for one of the festivals? And what if Ollie the new bird doesn't like me?
It's more than I can bear right now, I think. *tilts at windmills*
why I'm quiet.
And he tells me
my mouth only is happy.
And he buys me a drink
And I tell him
it's okay
I'll be fine, someday.
... I feel like I've been pretending, recently. Like the Brad Pitt character in "A River Runs Throught It" who is happy happy happy all the time because he's afraid to admit he isn't.
I'm not unhappy.
Just... not happy, either, really. Lately I've been a bit spaced out, numb, like one of my really spacy days but toned down a lot, so that I can actually function without people thinking I'm stoned. (I wind up staying home on my spacy days, because it's no fun to be told 'man, you were stoned yesterday!')
It's just... everything. The world is shouting at me all of a sudden recently, and my papers sucked, and I'm going to Montreal for Christmas so that my mother can look disapproving every time I put food in my mouth, because I'm simply not trying (I only feel fat at home, and it's the only place anyone ever implies I'm ugly), and my friend M has HIV and I know people live like twenty-five years with it now, but how many people are done living at forty-six, and I don't know how I'm going to readjust again to living in a house which nearly killed me next summer, even though I love the people in it very much, and how the hell am I going to avoid The Ex when we have friends in common that I very much want to see, and will I be able to get a job because my French has gone downhill, it's not as quick anymore, and will I be able to get back to St. John's next summer for one of the festivals? And what if Ollie the new bird doesn't like me?
It's more than I can bear right now, I think. *tilts at windmills*
