Tag Archives: turmoil

Things I want for Christmas

Santa, family, friends, me, or anyone listening can give this grateful creature:
-a new spine
-care from others; sincerity
-unexpensive gifts that come from dreams
-companionship and ability to express myself intimately
-vacation
-insight into unfinished business of mine
-genius ideas
-family turmoil resolution
-honesty
-lump of coal (for my hookah), peppermint flavored
-an eased spirit
-ability to cook food that tastes good
-competency and uncommon sense

And for New Years, I hope to not hear of a single “Resolution.” I will not be having any. They are poor excuses for weak-willed individuals. N.Y.R.’s are asking to be broken. I’d rather just commit to doing what I want without going overboard. For some, it will be holding off on getting laid so often. Others will lay off the chocolate. Not me. I just won’t have my favorite dark chocolate as much as I have been the past week. It is my crutch that I don’t need. Methinks I’m rambling. Go ahead with New Years Resolutions, just don’t make them in order to break them. Set achievable goals and pick yourself up if you fall. The steps of a baby is the pace of a slow but determined winner. Today my goal is to eat dinner instead of eating chocolate candy bars.

I’d like to fulfill someone else’s wishes if it can be done with an empty bank account. I can’t make my secret getaway right now as a broke gal, so I’ll settle for staring at pictures of it online.

Stuck Inside

I stayed curled up in a ball today. Internally I feel like nothing is resolving. Externally I have nothing to do. I’ve lost my appetite and I can’t think straight. I always try to think of what’s wrong with me. I’m not a hypochondriac but I know there is something short circuiting. (Normality doesn’t exist and that’s not what I’m striving for) I just want to be content. I can handle the unexpected. First I think I’m bipolar or something, then I think I am schizophrenic or psychotic to a mild degree. I want to have Alzheimer’s disease; maybe not. I’m already screwed up it seems to me. I’ve never done any drugs, but I don’t need drugs to make myself feel out of touch. My ex-boyfriend called today and tried to blame me for his cheating on me. This was a few months ago and I can’t stand that he brings it up because I wouldn’t “put out”. I’ve let go of it, but the fact that I persevere in thinking it only compounds the stress. Everything is unstable and I feel like letting the turmoil spill to the ground.