electronic surgical words
"Radio Cure" by Wilco [this pretty much stabbed me]
Cheer up, honey, I hope you can
There is something wrong with me
My mind is filled with radio cures
Electronic surgical words
December, 7 2016 Wednesday 4:25 PM
Whatever is dark is back.
There is a tree across the street from my house that kind of looks like broken bones. It's the awkward angles, and the twistiness of it all. Probably all trees look like broken bones in that case. But actually, no.
The tree in front of my high school looks like a 3D model of the brain's blood vessels. Not that I've ever seen such a thing. But I can imagine a brain surrounding the bulk of the branches. They seem so evenly distributed, all spread out and thin at the ends.
The tree across the street is not that way. It goes up, splits into two, goes up and up, splits again, and up and then it ends. It doesn't taper off or anything. It's just over. There are no little branches reaching up above the big trunks, either. They're all reaching out, to the sides.
It's a nice tree, though.
Ser-prise, I feel like crep.
Last night was almost as bad as last week, except I wasn't really panicking. I was just sad.
Well. "Sad" doesn't really cut it. Neither does "hopeless." It was something horrible, but by now, I can barely remember it. I know depression fucks with your hippocampus and stuff. Inhibits short-term memory and all that crap. Maybe that's why I can't remember what I was thinking. I can only remember that I was crying, and that annoyed me because I was trying to sleep. But I also didn't really want to stop. Because sleeping means waking up again, and waking up is so hard, and everything after that is hard too.
I don't want to go to college. I just want to sit in my house all day, digging myself a hole.
I have an appointment with Pat later. That should be okay. I am reluctant to admit that I've been feeling kind of bad lately, but I think I'm more afraid of what would happen if I didn't tell her – which is nothing. I wouldn't kill myself. I would just continue living with this, I guess.
I'm pretty sure it's bad for my body. Like, I'm pretty sure I'm melting. Getting shorter, skin sagging out. Puddling everywhere. Losing shape.
Yeah, so. God I feel spacey today. I have felt crappy since the moment I woke up on Tuesday.
I can't do any work. My mind won't stick to anything. Or the other way around. What? What. Nothing feels connected. I just want to sleep. I'm going to go sleep, I think. Just for a bit.
Hah. Hahaha. Today, Alexis, Liv, and I were sitting in Washington's room. We were talking about what teachers we would become. Alexis would grow up to become Mr. Rayes, who meditates and is a happy, positive guy.
I'd grow up to be Mr. Washington.
Washington was like, "Please, no, I'm too angsty."
So Alexis said, "Wait, Veronica, you're not angsty," and hah. Yes I am. I told her so. Washington agreed.
But Alexis kept insisting I wasn't.
"Washington can tell," I said, "Angsty people can sense each other." And also because he knows I angst about public speaking.
Another supporting point ----> The entire above entry.
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