MR MOJO RISINNNNNNNNNNN GOT TO KEEP ON RISINNNNNN

Wed|06.19

All day, I think it's Thursday.

I have spins right now, and I'm only sitting down. Yeah. I'm drunk. TYPOS! Luckily I spot them and backspace. But it's slow going. Work tomorrow? Hahahaha. Used to be, yeah. Used to be, hungover was for the Diet Coke to cure. Now the DC is a matter of habit, I dropped the drinking long ago. Okay not really. But, for a while. (Is this the worst idea in the world? Adding a drunken entry? Yes. No wait. Killing someone is worse, yes definitely.)

HI YOU GUYS!!!!!!! I TOTALLY WATCHED YOU WALKING AWAY!!!!!

So the bartender has a bowl cut, dark hair with a streak of white in the front. HE POURS A MEAN LEMONADE. Rosey knows what I mean. Okay, a lot of people know what I mean. OH SHUT UP WHOEVER YOU ARE YEAH CLEO WHATEVER YOURE GOING BY NOW

I can't go to sleep until I stop spinning and I'm only sitting so it might be a while. WOW!

It's like I'm an alien in a new atmosphere. Mmmmm. I used to love this.

Okay. NOW to take the focus awayyyyyy from me for like, a second.

On the bus yesterday (or was it this morning?) this guy gets on, he's holding a little cardboard milk container like from grade school, and some kind of breakfast bar, and he tries to sit down in an empty outside seat but the guy from the inside seat is getting off, and there is a small kerfluffle, and milk/bar guy says, "You stepped on my foot! Apologize. Be human, motherfucker!"

You know it's sad when you have to call someone motherfucker to get an apology. WHAT IS HUMANITYLSl;f;ljfdl;j Anyway no, the foot-stomper didn't say anything. Eh, most people act that way. But Chronicle Man (I say that due to the newspaper he's flinging around, I neglected to mention that) wants acknowledgement. I understand. But he's not getting it and how old do you have to be to realize that? I mean come on.

Friday after work I was in Rite Aid (sorry) buying water or something and I'm standing in line, there's one line for all the cashiers, so I'm next, and this woman walks up and says, she's obviously agitated, she says, "There's ONE line for ALL the cashiers?" and I say, "Yes," and she says, "Well, THATS stupid," and I say, "Not really," and she points emphatically at a cashier and says "SHES WAITING FOR YOU!" and I said, WICKED SNOTTY, "Why, thank you! You're so. Helpful." I was hoping she would answer in an equally snotty tone and our tiny insults would escalate into a smackdown, but no such luck. She didn't reply.

Pthththt.

you're bored with me in EH vry way

Sat|06.15

It hits you in flashes and traps you in incomplete and circular thoughts. There's nothing you can do about the machine. Why think about the machine? But you're part of the machine. Is there a way to detach yourself from it? No. Can you change it? No.

Fuck it! You think this phrase several times. But still it goes around and around. The real problem is your mind, maybe. Obsessive thinking. Maybe not, though. Maybe your mind is the only thing that ISNT a problem. OH YOUR GOD NEITHER ONE OF THOSE IS TRUE!

You like writing in the second person today. You think nothing is really worth posting. It's not original or well thought-out. You say it anyway? Yeah, apparently.

So milk is being recalled, and it's one small step backward in our massive self-poisoning when they do a recall, but no worries. They can't find it all. They don't test it all.

"Why live?" you used to think, but why die is becoming the real problem. What the fuck is there to look forward to in death? You cease to exist. How is THAT enjoyable? You doubt it is.

You know that soon, maybe one day maybe two, you'll settle back into being one of the lower- to middle-class white american women who are fooled into thinking if they work a little harder their lives will change for the better. You will be caught up in daily tasks and food obsessions and self-hatred and chiding yourself for all the things you're doing wrong, including hating yourself, what's wrong with you that you'd hate yourself? If you stop thinking about eating and concentrate on exercise you can have a more desirable body. Isn't that what you've been focused on since you were a teenager, your ugly and hideous and malformed body? Is something more important than that?

Yes, several things, but you can't change any of those things and 35 years is not a long enough time to prove that this is just one more thing that you can't change you will not accept that because this is not your body it is not good enough it is just simply NOT.

Just make sure you have enough money to buy the chips and sugar you need and the diet coke you need and the protein supplement you need on the days you think you can change, and make sure you have enough money to buy fruit and vegetables so that you will be more balanced and make sure you have enough money to pay your phonebill so that you can stay online and make sure you have enough money for pizza. Make sure you have enough to buy a beer if you think you just absolutely need one. Make sure you have enough for your prescription refills. Don't forget about chocolate.

Maybe today you're angry at all of the time (literally months or years if you add up every minute of every day) you've obsessed over food and weight and trying to feel better or worse or whatever you think will help you deal with how you are, or accept it, or change it. You're not really sure anymore, but you know that was probably a colossal waste of time, and you know that you're NOT DONE YET. You bought a book about how to stop obsessing about things but you never read it. You hate fucking self-help books. You not only can't stop obsessing but you have no follow-through on anything. How can those two things go together? It's bad news that they do.

Can't someone just give you some really really REALLY good drugs? Why don't you have the kind of money that you need? You know it's your own fault. You dislike work. It wastes your time in a way you wouldn't choose to waste it. Another problem is your potential and the way that it remains unfulfilled due to your self-hatred and shyness and just general freakydeakyness. You realize how long you spent today thinking about yourself and how that it was an embarrassing waste of time, time wasted in the worst way, in egotistical self-obsession.

Is this your worst problem, your mind? Or wait, no. It's an asset. (ITS NeithteER IT JustT ISSS) If this is your worst problem be glad. BE GLAD! YOURE FUNCTIONING SOMEHOW YOU ARE KEEPING A ROOF OVER YOUR HEAD YOU ARE OKAY BASICALLY.

So shut the fuck up and call your mother.

Or else take a nap. You know how much you like to sleep. Or continue to half-watch this "documentary" on the Clutter family who were brutally murdered years and years ago, back when Capote was alive and writing.

He's dead now, you know. Capote.