No rhyme or reason.
written: 11:25 p.m. on Tuesday, Sept. 15, 2009

I think it could be said, to some extent at least, that I'm quite doomed to being unhappy forever.

Can't articulate my thoughts/feelings.

Why oh why did Roger not win the US Open. If he had, at least that would've been something for me to smile at.

*

Feel unhappy and I don't know why fuck.

*

1.31 a.m.:

Let me try again.

When it gets really bad my chest constricts and my breathing gets interrupted. When it gets really bad and it manifests itself in a physical reaction, I'm thinking about...

What am I thinking about? The future, distant and near. Tomorrow, the day after, next week, next month, two months later. The next two hours. Not even next year, just tomorrow, the rest of the week. Not so much how I have nothing to look forward to in terms of filling out my social calendar (I don't have one), but in terms of how utterly without a purpose I feel.

Idling my days away. Idling my time away. I'm becoming a fossil, trapped in my own incompetence, indifference, and lack of motivation. I know that the only person who can turn this around - this bout of mild depression that I thought ended with the Friday meltdown, but apparently I was wrong - is me. I know that I can't rely on anyone else to make me feel better.

But I feel so stuck. And the fact that I can't write this properly is pissing me off even more, making this even worse.

Fucking backhand is breaking down. And you're taking too much time between serves.

*

Back to wishing Roger had won the US Open so that I'd have SOMETHING with which to take my mind off things. As it stands, whenever I see a picture of him I just feel sad.

What the fuck.

before sunrise // before sunset

Previously:
- - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2017
I'm moving. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
In all honesty - Tuesday, Jul. 06, 2010
What I want for my birthday... - Sunday, Jul. 04, 2010
On Roger's behalf. - Friday, Jul. 02, 2010