What A Fucked Up Day . . .

I have felt like a bi-polar schizophrenic all day long. I have been in a state of binary oppositions since I woke up: sleep vs. wake up, eat vs. don't eat, work vs, watch tv, go see a movie vs. veg at home, write vs. read. It;s one of those days where I hate my life and feel totally unfulfilled about everything. Sometimes I do wonder if I need to be medicated. I am just having a hella bad time right now and am finding it very difficult to get out of my funk. But as always, a surface smile and joke to make someone else laugh is the reflex.

I finally left the house to hang out with Sara for a bit. Still felt like crap despite the efforts made to keep me involved. I did, however, buy a new journal. My old one is not even half filled, but it has been about two years since I wrote an entry and I need to start anew. It may sound weird, and Sara agreed, that sometimes a journal has so much negative energy and thoughts that you can;t go back to it and you have to start fresh, and I truly believe that. I find it hard enough to read the old journals let alone keep writing in them. So I got a plain black ringed journal with white pages...no line...no confinement....no rules. Just me and my thoughts. This could either be extremely cathartic for me, or extremely painful....which I guess would fulfill the first.

I need to leave. I need to get out and get away and just abandon all sense of the now. I envision myself just quietly leaving in the middle of the night and moving away...and not in some purile and juvenile attempt to illicit worry and concern from friends and family, but just to be able to move on with no hassle and no ties to bind me. See....this is what happens when I don;t have anything to keep my mind focused.

Aw, shit....I have research papers to grade. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!