So I have this crazy idea to drown myself in words. Because if I don’t think about being alone (not just single, but alone), because if I feel like I’m doing something that might be worth something, it makes up for other things. Other parts in my life where I’m failing.
I know it won’t, but at least it distracts me for a while. It distracts me from lying in bed naked, just running my fingers over my body to think about a lover’s touch. To think about what evokes chills down my spine and yearning in my heart (not my pants).
It distracts me from imperfections and failures and all that rotten bits that sit at the bottom of my feet, but sometimes gets shaken throughout my body.
And then older male workers hit on me and I really just want to say, “Thanks, but I like girls.” But I can’t lie and I hate hurting people. But it doesn’t really do anyone any good. And I am just completely confused.
Sometimes it kills me to see my best friends with their boyfriends/girlfriends and feel so…not. Not attractive, not a pair. They never make me feel like a fifth wheel, though sometimes I feel like a third. But that can’t really be helped, since I am.
I’ve been listening to alot of classical music, which helps me write, at least for now. I’ve been itchy, like somethings crawling up my spine and I need to do something before it gets to my brain, but I don’t know what, so I just need to do everything–preferably at once.
I hope to start The Graveyard Book tomorrow.
For now, I’ll just go insane.