Other Disasters

I don't know what to do. Well, stop thinking, that's one of them. But you can't turn off the very essence of one's nature. I'm so tired of never knowing what to do anymore. Hopefully by the time I am finished writing this entry, I will feel a lot better about everything, since writing seems to make everything better. Anyway, how do I make this as least dramatic as possible. Well, to be honest, everything I've conclusively written and published recently has as been written quite calmly and collectively actually. As I've written these little droplets of sorrow, my mind has been a steady numbed, and stagnant standstill. It's me earnestly succumbing the the truth about everything, surrendering completely non-hysterically and quite physically composed. Which is more than I can say about my non-published and mortifying behavioral drunk actions this past weekend. But that is neither here nor there, just when I think I've done the worst, I've outdone myself once again. What's wrong with me? Oh too much, nothing, and everything. But I don't want to think about that any longer because I'll just feel even worse than I already do.

Wow, look at that, I already feel slightly elated and better. For now, but I'll take whatever I can get, it is the little things. But now that I feel better, I don't see the point in further confessions anymore since that will only make me feel worse again. Hm, yeah, I'll finish this entry later when I come back down again.