[10:55 p.m.] : [2019-04-24]
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I'm tired. Really fucking tired. I haven't been sleeping well and I'm working far too much for having nothing to show for any of it and every time I feel like I'm starting to get clear more shit gets heaped on. James sent me a link to an opening for what should be a good job and I know I should try to get it, but fuck... just thinking about moving back to Houston one more damn time makes me want to shoot myself in the fucking face. I don't know how to make him, or anyone else, understand that. Being homeless and living out of my car and barely making enough to scrape by and keep myself alive taking everyone else's shit and not being able to get time in for myself is somehow the better option. I know it doesn't make any damn sense. I just keep having that Bright Eyes line repeating in my head over and over and over and over and over again. "No one ever plans to sleep out in the gutter. Sometimes that's just the most comfortable place." I really wish I didn't know what that meant, but lately I've been far too fucking tired to care. |
