I'm a fucking mess.
Someone adopted my dad's cats. I want my dad's cats, but I have an apartment.
I don't know what I'm doing.
I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing. Or saying. Or how I'm supposed to act.
I have a wedding to go to tomorrow (well, I guess it's today now) and I'm going to look like a bag of shit.
What's real?
What's important?
I should likely talk to someone, but who do I talk to? Who wants to see me sit there and cry for hours? Cause, you know, that would be fun.
Fundamentally, I'm having a hard time getting my shit together.
I guess I want someone to help me through this, but who can do that? Is someone going to come and babysit me every goddamn day? Hold my hand when I start to get weepy and nostalgic?
Right. So then.
Really. No fucking idea.
About Me
- Duder
- An anxious chewer of nails, I can often be found running alone in groups of spandex clad North Vancouverites or attending an AA meeting and hoping no one asks me to share. I give an inordinate amount of thought to creating my own religion, but ultimately end up playing sudoku instead. It has been medically proven that I was born with a horseshoe up my ass. I believe one should be respected not for the money they have in the bank, nor the letters behind their name, but rather by how they live their lives.
My Blog List
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Dating fucking sucks.9 years ago
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Poems written on the water13 years ago
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It's 201014 years ago
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3 comments:
The commute will be horrendous but I would love to be there for you. I've been where you are and I will surely be there again some day. I know what you need but the distance is a bitch. I won't give you any of that "I'm with you in spirit - giving you a mental hug" crap. In times like this, physical presence and actual hugs are essential.
Know that I would if I could.
Brian
Thanks, man.
My dear, you can call me anytime.
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