Drugs turn me into a Britney Spears fan. My brain just can’t process anything else.
God help anyone who comes near me with Coldplay right now.
It’s time to tackle the late nights, soon as the sun goes down, my brain thinks it’s GO time. Hey Caris, how about we weed the garden or organise the kitchen or watch Korean dramas all night.
No, how about we grab a pillow and call it a day you bastard.
I wish i had long hair, with just the right amount of curls.
I wish my room didn’t smell of cigarette smoke.
I wish i had someone to talk to on the phone all night.
I wish i had a passionate plan that kept me working all day.
I wish i had the courage to paint and not worry about it not turning out right.
I wish i wasn’t drinking champagne and listening to Dolly Parton.
I wish i wasn’t planning to spend the weekend taking drugs just because i can.
I wish i could get excited about going back to University.
I wish i wasn’t selfish.
I wish i had the motivation to go to church.
I wish i had motivation
I wish i was a better version of myself.
I wish wishing was enough.
I’m very unhappy. In the middle of having everything.
I haven’t spoken to him for years. We were best friends in nursery school. But talking to him now, we might as well be five years old again.
The moral of this story is, if you connect with someone, the years between make no difference.
Tonight, i might face doing my list for Mr Psychiatrist. In the hope that he knows something i don’t, because i’m dubious. But i know there’s going to be a lot more cons than pros, and Lord knows how i don’t want to carry on with that on my shoulders.
I have some weird coping strategies. But there is this fear that in this healing process i’m going to loose something, that although damaging, is a big part of me none the less. What if all this digging and deleting kills what makes me, me. What if i don’t like being ‘fixed’.
Our demons are what make us interesting, or am i just being a coward?
If I could only step out my skin for a moment, experience myself as others do, then maybe I could get a hold on myself.
This evening I lapsed back into a different Caris, an old Caris, the one I’ve tried to close the door on. But tonight she picked the lock and laughed at my plans.
I slipped back into old habits like putting on an old glove that was once my favourite. I’m addicted to this surreal, induced state of mind where I can defocus and just exist for a few hours. I feel shallow today, like a puddle that’s losing a battle against the sun.
Am I interesting? Is there some great destiny coming to sweep me into life. Or is this it, the endless cycle of I can, I can’t, I won’t.