It's 10:30 at night.
I can hear distant thunder bringing in the rain promised for tomorrow.
I am listening to jazz for the first time in a long time. Sonny Rollins. I am high and content, but not quite comfortable in my bed.
I have so much on my mind that it is hard to get any words out. It's like my thoughts are so dense that I can't see through them.
I just deleted a couple of paragraphs. Not something I usually do on here. I tend to just write whatever comes to mind, real stream of consciousness like.
But there's too much. It was coming out of me in a way that I knew meant several thousand words. Most of it unnecessary.
But it all comes down to me feeling lonely.
And stressed about finances and the future and how any of us are going to survive this shit.
And I feel like I am in the way of my roommates or vice versa. This house feels small when the three of us never leave. Plus a highly energetic puppy.
Everything feels like too much.
I don't really know what else to say.
10:21 p.m. - 2020-04-11
Recent entries:
Finding my own voice in the wilderness - 2020-07-03
Looking Back - 2020-05-11
Pills, Pills, Pills - 2020-05-08
Anxiety is a real motherfucker - 2020-05-03
A Good Deal of Emotional Vomit - 2020-04-15
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