I really want to write something angry and unappealing right now. I should be working on whatever I need to be working on, but it’s hard to focus when you’re full of angst. I feel like I’ve outgrown being this upset about trivial things, but it’s my personal belief right now that people don’t actually ever stop being petty or sensitive, they just get better at hiding it. So I’ve secluded myself from the world for a moment, trying to get my bearings and catch my breath before I have to go out again and play grown up and seem like everything is alright. I’m ashamed, mostly because I shouldn’t be feeling what I am, and I shouldn’t even really be ashamed, but as you can see my mind is running on a spin cycle right now, so I can’t really keep any of these justifications still long enough to remember what I’m justifying.

My world right now is just one big run on sentence right now.

All I can ever think lately is that there is something wrong with me. And what’s more interesting than my own self pity is how it all seems to be reflected back at me this past weekend. 

I feel like this weekend is just going to be one big case study in how to be self-destructive.