Act natural

( Wednesday, Oct. 30, 2002 3:29 pm )

>What words rhyme with 'buried alive'?

Another cry-baby entry (although, on a positive note, I have not actually cried at all since I've moved here). Dear Lord it is cold outside, and I went into the city to slog around, dressed inappropriately in a sweater, getting soggy in the cold rain, being accosted by homeless people and lisping teenagers with sob-stories. On the other hand, I again realized that walking around feeling depressed is very familiar to me. Being happy felt too unusual anyway, so it's much better that I'm back to my old walking mantra, "I hate myself and I want to die." It's a good thing to be saying with every step, I'm sure. I went to the bank in the city to deposit Juney's half of the UHaul money and to check my balance in an effort to scare myself into more fervid and convincing job hunting. However, I was instead surprised to see that I have a bit more than I thought, and could probably be jobless into February without appealing to my parents for financial aid.

Last night, deciding finally to just embrace the depression and be done with it, I got a little drunk by myself, as interestingly documented in the journal entry (paper, not electronic) I was writing at the time and am now somewhat afraid to read. I went to bed around 10:30 and didn't even hear Juney come home.

This always happens to me--I feel so lonely and so homesick for...someone. But I can't think of who it is that I would want to see right now. Alternately, I have the impulse to stay entirely alone, to be as austere and long-suffering as possible. See how virtuous I'll be, and see how it will bring me a life of the utmost simplicity, and I'll never have to talk to anyone ever again.

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