This could be for you

I could be exaggerating when I say yesterday was the worst day I've had in a while. I am on my vacation, I get with friends, I argue with friends, I yell at my own best friend then seconds later apologize. I sleep in sporadic positions that at the moment, feels comfortable until I wake up at the bottom of my bed with a stiff neck. Sounds like the life, but what more can I possibly complain about. I don't write in third person (anymore), I haven't quit my dirty habit, I noticed since I haven't been in a relationship for almost four or five months, that I've bitten my nails franticly hoping something would happen if I didn't have any fingers left.

Yesterday was Saturday. Saturday night consisted of me, on my full sized bed, sitting upright on the right side of my bed. I have my molskine book open to a new page with the usual heading. All of a sudden I write down one sentence and in two minutes I start crying. Like fuckin balling my brains out. When I finally whipped the snot off my face with my shirt, I sat there staring at the large painting I have. So I took it down.

This has been happening to me for a while now. It stopped for some time while I was out and about, happy as could be. While I was still laying on my back, I slouched to my normal upright position and sat there. I sat and thought about all the things I have that make me happy so I can start gettin ma shit on the bright side. Things I'm passionate about, a person I'm passionate about but just talk to every now and then. Even that small talk makes me happy. Writing, painting, drawing, walking, basically any verb minus fucking.. Makes me happy. Besides running, whenever I'm running it's always for a bad reason.

There you have it. Saturday August 16th, in a nutshell.

What a depresso I've come to be.