random depression
inside the box tonight he doesn't give a shit about me, made dinner tonight to create a distraction, painted a bunch of dark windows/boxes on canvas. Not sure what it is yet, but each window represents a day and each day is the same larger or smaller blacker or bloodier window/box then the next. The phone rings and I welcome the call of a telemarketer so that I get a chance to let off some steam. Washed my face with my oatmeal cinnamon soap I bought when I was in Maine, I fed Elvis a green bean off my plate. I thought about killing myself tonight. I haven't thought about "that" in a while, of course that is all so ridiculous, but more seriously the thought of cutting crossed my mind, and I have a feeling the urge will come again before I go to sleep. I didn't call my mom today. I felt guilty, I felt helpless, I felt like I have nothing to contribute. God I just feel so fucking alone... I have friends, and a boyfriend and family, but I feel sooo fucking alone. I never let anyone in, you might think your in, but there are a thousand screen doors before you get to soul. It's too late, there are five small cuts on my right thigh. I feel myself tumbling in and I can't find any way of stopping it. Every breath feels like a paper cut. I am somewhere I haven't been in a long time, and didn't expect to be. Tonight I just really don't want to be here.
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