slipping through grief

Turning Page - Sleeping At Last

I need to cry. Yeah. Never thought I'd write this either. I am horribly alone. I've had a rough rough rough past few months. I work too hard. I make okay money. I hate where I live. I miss my family. I don't want to move back "home." I don't want to move to LA. I want it to move to me. I want to chase my dreams more than anything in the world. I am still fat. I am still depressed. I have been smoking in my apartment... which is nice... I'm fat and it hurts to look at myself in the mirror. I am so alone. I want to be held loved adored fucked cherished kissed feel love being made to me without wanting to do it back... I want a man's undying attention. I want to be doted on. I want to be so attracted and be able to leave this wonderful man and regret it. I want ... no. I take it back... kind of. I want those things because what I desire... more than anything in the world... the deepest desire of my heart right now is to be in love. Pure and unapologetic. The kind of love that consumes your entire being... I want that love. I want love better than any I have ever known. I never want to feel this alone ever again. I want to share all of me. The good bad crazy beautiful amazing funny talented sexy lovely person I know that I am ... or can be... I want someone to see that and want it. Need it. Love it. Love me. And I want that man to be someone I am not settling on. Christ... don't I deserve that? ...

Probably not.

Me and Beth are detoxing. I better lose some fucking weight. Dear LA, you better be the fucking answer I am looking for.

Lately...

9 Crimes Damien Rice

Lately... well Christ... see lately is a different kind of beast. I've been homeless. Screwed over more times than I can count. I work 40hr a week but it feels like 70. All my "friends" are thin and beautiful and I know why they keep me around... to look good. I get it, don't worry, I completely fucking get it. God, I still feel eighteen. Still feel like I have forever. But if I don't get out of this shithole before my 30s then I am just as stupid as I ever thought I was.
I moved out. Solo living. First time in these twenty six years. Weird. But not. Freeing. But lonely. Perfect. But temporary. Gotta lose the weight now. Gotta do it now. That way when they tell the story there will be this time where I got my shit together.  But that time for me is now and I am a fragile thing. Easily tempted. Quickly distracted. Once I catch a glimpse of an intricate web of illusions, I plummet. Head over feet, I am the young Alice, tumbling unto a dimension which I cannot possibly be equipped to discover, yet tumbling just as quick. How I envy those who can conquer themselves and defeat their childish nature in order to acquiesce the desired vocation. Can I? Dare I allow these apparitions to hazy my subconscious as I lay asleep and unfighting?
All I allow myself to know is right now. I hate right now. I have to starve right now.