As I was laying in bed last night, my brain starting firing all its stupid neurons at warp speed, and I was treated to visual enactments of my fears set to distorted clips of music. Never have I been so frightened of "The Obvious Child".
Because I have the best father in the world, I was allowed to skip work today. I never got to sleep, and I felt nauseous until about two hours ago.
I have this giant anthology of short stories, and I'm going to start reading more of them, aligning myself with the theory that one becomes a better writer from experiencing other authors' work. Plus, I noticed that I start to feel stupid really quickly when I am not actively engaging myself, and, if nothing else, it'll serve as a distraction.
I am supposed to go back to my apartment today. I talked to Colleen, and Dylan won't be there, but I don't feel good about spending the weekend. The deal was that he'd be moved out, but now he's just going to stay elsewhere when I'm there. I'm considering staying here for the night and hanging out with Alex. Call me a five-year-old, but the space just doesn't feel like it's mine, anymore.
In my present state of self-examination, I've realized that I doubt everything. I don't trust anyone to own up to their intentions. I don't believe in anything. I know it sounds like a huge generalization, but it's true. I've never identified with any song like I identify with "I Don't Believe You".
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I commonly put down books when they are so beautifully written I feel hopelessly inadequate (see David Foster Wallace). And speaking of art inadequacy, "I Don't Believe You" (or TMF in general) is about that for me music-wise.
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