the wrong side of the bed

i feel sometimes like i am completely happy and content. the very next day i will feel so isolated and desparately alone. of course, there isn't much i do about feeling alone. i mean, once you get all depressed and self-pitying, your ability to motivate yourself to do something about it kind of goes to shit. if i try hanging out with friends to cheer me up it sometimes just makes me feel more lonely. i put so much of my happiness in other peoples's hands. which is dumb because they are kind of busy with themselves.

i am not good at being happy on my own. i feel like i have to piece together feeling good from so many awkward scraps that don't fit well at all. it is like i am trying to make something out of bits of paper, warn out cordouroys, chicken bones, nail clippings, and the occasional nice thing (like stickers and my peanut shaped eraser). you can't make a lot from that. maybe i should try putting something together that is already complete. like making myself out of the visible woman.

i am sewing a monster today, though. on my new sewing machine. that is good, right? i am going to make my uncle some stickers with my sticker maker because i couldn't afford to get him a nice christmas present. that's good too, right?

Labels: complaining, excuses excuses, fucking up, pity party, sad

You can call me any time you are sad. I spend all of my time alone at home with my dog.

You should totally move to Vegas with me.