2001-08-09 I nearly jumped out of the damned window today. I don’t know why. I was standing there, smoking, and suddenly I could see myself falling down. It upset me. It was horrible, really. I had to go lie on my bed for a while. Then I started to feel a bit better. I’m still shaky. I don’t think I’ll do anything today. I just want to lie down. I don’t want to do anything. I just hate being alive & conscious. --- I’m thinking of starting to write a journal in Finnish again. I still have spindrift.diaryland (unless it’s been deleted) and I could use it. --- Today’s been a weird day. Slow, somehow. I can’t get anything done. It’s like my limbs wouldn’t move as fast as I tell them to. It takes ages to get that piece of chocolate that’s twenty centimeters away. I went outside today, to buy something to eat. I keep wanting to chainsmoke. I’m quite sure the smell’s stuck to the walls although I tried to avoid it. My mother told me not to smoke inside, but I’ve done that. I can’t smell it, but then, I can never smell anything. M is coming here next week. I can’t remember why, but I assume he has a meeting or a few. He’s going to visit me, apparently.
My bike is broken. I should get it fixed, and I think I’ll do something about it tomorrow. I’m so goddamn exhausted. I don’t want to do anything but sleep. I woke up at 1 p.m. today. And I still wanted to stay in bed after I had woken up. I don’t know what makes this day so bad. Oh, I’m so exhausted! Completely and utterly exhausted. And I don’t know what’s wrong. And I don’t know if it matters. --- First my aunt called to ask how I was and then my mother called on the other phone so I could escape my aunt’s questions about my money situation and getting jobs, my mom wanted to know if I’d go to the cottage with my parents and then, when I was in the shower, my sister called and asked if I wanted a lift to go to the cottage, and I had to, once again, explain that I wasn’t going. And I have no proper reason for not going. Ugh. At least I’ve finally got around to wash some clothes, so this day wasn’t a complete waste. And I did finish ‘Spider’ today. It got better towards the end. When I was out I kept feeling like I could go completely psycho for no reason, other than the example in the book. Ni. said it was a disturbing book, but it wasn’t even remotely as upsetting as one book I read last year. It was by Robert Cormier, called ‘After the first death’. It was one of the most sickening books I’ve ever read. I meant to write an essay about it but I couldn’t, because all I could write was about the emotions the book had caused. So I wrote about something else instead, and I never got that essay back because I was in the hospital at that time. Oh, sometimes I’m glad I was in the hospital. I never wanted that essay back. It was horrible. I know it since I wrote it, and I’m not good with the criticism that the teacher would’ve presented. I’m no good with criticism, ever. --- Somehow, I don't feel at all like I've said what's been on my mind. I suppose I don't care much. And anyway, everyone writes dull entries every once in a while. All this real-life stuff makes my life unbearable, and because I'm miserable for other reasons too, it's just too much to take. And why was I miserable again? Because of them. Because they screwed up and it makes me feel bad. I should, I assume, finally get over it. But I can't and I won't. So I'll just wait and the heart ache will pass. Some day. |
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