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Aug. 10th, 2008 06:52 pmI should be writing a L.com blog, but all I can think about is me, me, me. So I'm hoping a little purging will do the trick, since the coffee doesn't seem to be working.
The long and short of it, I live in New Orleans now. I'm not sure why, except for good intentions...and you know what they say about good intentions. I do feel like I was meant to come here, but I can't help thinking that the reason I was meant to come here is now no longer an option. On a semi-related note, I've discovered the wonders of biology cannot be overridden and try as I might, my stupid body wants to make another body. It's a weird thing, to be ok with this. It was for the best, but I can't help but thing it would have been a good thing actually. Extremely difficult, time and fund-consuming, but I think it would have been ok, better than ok. And that scares the shit out of me, has me flailing in muddy waters. What the fuck am I doing? I'm 30 years old (soon to be 31) and living out of two suitcases for a job that pays $7 an hour. Yes, it's a job that I believe in (I work for the Gulf Restoration Network until the 22nd), but what happens after that, I haven't the slightest. I thought it would be easy to lose myself here, to focus on other people. Instead I'm finding it hard to concentrate on anything but myself right now. Maybe it's just today, the lack of sleep, the confusion and yes, sadness, of separating from someone I feel close to, but know there is no future with. Fucking scales and our need for a union. It shows up at the most inconvenient times.
Maybe that'll clear some blockage. I'm sure that all made perfect sense.
But fuck you guys, I don't write this for you....ok, for some of you.
And I'm just kiddin' about the "fuck you" part.
OR AM I.
dun Dun DUN!
The long and short of it, I live in New Orleans now. I'm not sure why, except for good intentions...and you know what they say about good intentions. I do feel like I was meant to come here, but I can't help thinking that the reason I was meant to come here is now no longer an option. On a semi-related note, I've discovered the wonders of biology cannot be overridden and try as I might, my stupid body wants to make another body. It's a weird thing, to be ok with this. It was for the best, but I can't help but thing it would have been a good thing actually. Extremely difficult, time and fund-consuming, but I think it would have been ok, better than ok. And that scares the shit out of me, has me flailing in muddy waters. What the fuck am I doing? I'm 30 years old (soon to be 31) and living out of two suitcases for a job that pays $7 an hour. Yes, it's a job that I believe in (I work for the Gulf Restoration Network until the 22nd), but what happens after that, I haven't the slightest. I thought it would be easy to lose myself here, to focus on other people. Instead I'm finding it hard to concentrate on anything but myself right now. Maybe it's just today, the lack of sleep, the confusion and yes, sadness, of separating from someone I feel close to, but know there is no future with. Fucking scales and our need for a union. It shows up at the most inconvenient times.
Maybe that'll clear some blockage. I'm sure that all made perfect sense.
But fuck you guys, I don't write this for you....ok, for some of you.
And I'm just kiddin' about the "fuck you" part.
OR AM I.
dun Dun DUN!
