*nothing feeds a hunger like a thirst. 2001-11-11 8:50 p.m.*
my life is hoodies over nightgowns. showers where i feel everything for the first time in what seems like ages. the water on my skin, its heat, its pressure, the size of the drops. the tile under my feet. the slippery glycerin soap. my curls uncurling. the shampoo dripping down my face, the way the conditioner greases its way down my neck. the way the water burned the cat scratches on my feet and the weird scratch on my ass that has been giving me nightmares about rashes and acid scars. my life is coming out of the shower and my feet feeling stumpy fuzzy and tired again. my life is shells and cheese, pizza rolls and potato sticks. simpsons. first half of she-devil. blanket over the head. archie mcphee catalogues becoming suddenly the most interesting thing i've ever read i must read it cover to cover. avoiding the innocuous paper with the mask of the paper from hell. joyous phone calls with jennifer connelly, contemplating joyous moments with magic fingers and james, joyous seconds in my im conversation with james last night, an unexpected joyous email from catnipboy. talking to my mom trying to make everything seem good, trying not to admit that she hasn't heard from me in so long because i've been afraid she'd hear my very very sad. checking my email obsessively. a few entries. my life is liz phair. my life is my cat scratching me. my life is my cat licking my fingers. my life is talking to people online, which is a sure indication that i'm supposed to be doing a paper. my life is a page and 3 lines done. my life is desparately wanting to get out of my house and see people, take me to the beach, denny's, disneyworld, nebraska, the bay, the parking lot. my life is holding my chest and my belly because i've been told it helps. my life is tears blurring my vision, laughter making me cough. wanting more potato sticks. wanting to forever eat potato sticks there is comfort in potato sticks i will not lick the potato sticks salt off my fingers because that seems like the end of potato sticks and i vote no. my life is obsessively checking my stats and wondering who these people are, and why it seems like i'm the only person who ever visits my site if 27 people list me as their favorite. my life is i should get back to this paper.
when i have been depressed in the past, i found myself in this feeling that every moment would feel exactly like that moment, sad and lost.
when i have been happy in the past, i found myself in this feeling that every moment would feel exactly like that moment, happy and wondrous.
i lie to myself in states of extreme emotion.
*listening to: *
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