2005-07-12 - 9:45 p.m.

ooo jeez.

i have to sit on my hands right now. becuz what i'm tempted to do is go into the fucking bathroom and stick my finger down my throat then get drunk.

if lizard doesn't answer the phone then we are about to have a live bulemic moment here folks. i'm not having too much "feelings" pushing this on.

more feeling like i just...i have the most cracked eating schedule. i don't eat nearly all day. or very late in the day. working through it too busy, couldn't care less. rarely occurs to me. then bamb, the minute i let down my gaurd, put down the day, relax, i relax into a food coma. comatose people. like fucking i'm not going to

damn. lizard's good. she caught me in time. then someone stopped by and the craps probably digested.

i just had an out with electro over his ill behavior over the weekend. he's so senseless and he fights really imaturely like a kid not making any sense yelling on a playground.

i might have to hop a train tomorrow to help me lill girl pack up her stuff. they have to sell their house this week. they are being forced. i would just go down for the day. it would be exhausting and we'd have so much fucking work to do. it would be insane. this is just one of those moments where i can't make a decision.

they are the most important to me in the land. and now is one of the worst times for me to drop everything and go anywhere. i've been consistently baggin out on everything. tonight i got out of an art opening w/ cat, drinks with a friend in town, and my clients dinner. and to do what? eat too much, argue and intermittenly do work. it's not just the doing of work, it's the guilt of being out not doing the work. and the sense of not having enough down, home time.

so i've been staying in the womb a bit. and i have to say, it's the smelliest womb i've ever met. my cat litter smells every single day. no matter if i buy the most expensive litter and change it every other day, it seems to swelter with roomatic noise that can kill. i feel like my nose buds are dying as we speak. dead.

so i can't make a decision about going down to help. people say on the airplane you have to put your mask on first be4 you can help your kid, but i also feel like i'm single, and am not accountable to much beyond my business and if i'm here for anyone, it's them. it's a responsibility. and they do need some solidarity. my aunt is falling apart. my uncle is selling her home and kicking her out and he's sent in his crew of illegal workers to clean and pack them up. i don't know how i'll "be" to his society wife who is apparently leading the clean up and pack charge. i don't fake kindness well. my feelings towards others are always on my sleeve. which those who are in feel nice about, cuz they know their in-=ness is authentic and real. and everyone else can eat my dirt. i don't do well being judiscious to republicans. they can all eat my dirt and pungent litter box, bit by bit.

i still have work to do and now i'm jsut at that fine point of overwhelm where i just can't. i can't move forward at the moment. i can do no more but ignore the rancid smells, crawl into my delicious bed, sweat my ass off, read my book and try and forget it all just enough to feel the freshness of naiviette by morning.

that is what they call the morning dew. the self forgetting nature of 8 hours in an alternative reality. the dew of the morning where your life comes slowly pounding back into your memory.

simply pollyeanic this evening aren't i?