Stationary Unicycle

Well, I knew this was a mistake. I thought, hey, I've got a chance for some alone time, some time maybe to write a blog post. I know, I'll head to Bagel Central and suck down a cup of coffee and an Orangina and maybe think some thoughts, maybe write some stuff. I've had a lot on my mind. I thought I might have a moment to put some things in perspective, pound out some of the things that have been preying on my mind. First thing I notice, an old boyfriend. It's been such a long time it's no big deal, but whenever I see him I always think, oh, right. Hello, old boyfriend. The second thing that smacks me upside the head once I find a nice open little table to settle is that one of the ladies sitting directly in front of me is LOUD. One of the things I really hate, and by hate I mean FUCKING HATEHATEHATEHATE GODDAMN IT!!!!!  sorry, one of the things that sort of peeves me ever so slightly, people who talk so fucking loud you can't hear yourself think, beca...

I am feeling really shitty. I'm listening to Lonely Boy by the Black Keys compulsively. That's a good sign. Thinking that Jack White would do well to toss aside his very awesome band and pare back his sound. Do it for me Jackie White, do it for me. Now I laugh hysterically. Because I'm a little speck that's why. And also apparently sort of crazy. One of the big signs of depression is not enjoying stuff that used to be fun. I am there. Feeling adrift, unmoored, uprooted, spilled, spent, done in and done for. Not really. Really feeling like nothing at all. This is a slight improvement. Compared to the feeling I'd been having recently, the feeling of a 9 volt battery on the tongue feeling, nothing is better. Maybe there is some surcease ahead.   Been thinking about bullying in schools, and reading to kids, and Roald Dahl, and public school teachers, and family, and childhood depression, and all sorts of things, but haven't had the energy to ...

There is music What else is there to say I'm pretty close to cracking up. My ability to function well enough is compromised and I am in danger of falling below a certain standard of acceptability. There have been times when I've been so depressed that if breathing wasn't autonomic I wouldn't have bothered to keep up with the inhalations and exhalations. Too much effort. Too much trouble. I'm not depressed, not really. But I am emotionally wrought, physically exhausted, and I feel as though I'm being swept away in a wash of what the fuck. I feel like I've been pushing walls, or am I holding them up, I don't remember anymore what I'm doing. After a while I get all numb and tired. That's where I am tonight. Something about Chet Baker. Makes me feel better. His voice even more than his playing moves me. It's very something...to try to describe it makes me sound like a bigger moron than I am. So I won't even go there. If you ...