Oct. 9th, 2002

rockettqween: (Default)
My depression has hit a terrifyingly clinical status. Pulled out the St. John's Wort and am trying to weather the storm as I don't have any medical insurance or money for the naturopath and I'm not about to go through the nightmare of state funded mental health care again. Woke up early (11am!!) and proceded to do absolutely nothing save for finishing On the Road and feeding pepperoni to cats while periodically bursting into tears until about 6pm at which point I took a 2 hour nap so that I had enough energy to cry some more.

Oh yeah. I ate some candy too.

Dragged myself out to the Mercury around midnight. Why is it the only place you can go when severely depressed is the club? Namely a goth club on "Spooky Kid Night". I just wanted to play pool.

Depression does wonders for your pool game. I was putting together 3-5 ball runs continuously throughout the night. I didn't lose much. And just barely when I did. Normally this would make me happy. Right now not much is making me happy.

Perhaps Kerouac just compounded all the shit that's been going on. On the Road. I haven't been "On the Road" for 3 years now and that's something that feeds my soul. There's something that takes care of you when you're traveling without a purpose. I have a hard time having faith in any god except the one that takes care of you when you're "On the Road".

Depressing Rant )
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Well, I'm still depressed but not quite as horrifyingly depressed as I was last night. Of course, I've had the internet to keep me warm an distract me from my nicotine fit I'm realizing that I'm having as I realize it's been about 15 hours since my last cigarette. Wait... I'll be right back
rockettqween: (Default)
Better when I'm not twitching. Someday I'll quit smoking. Quit drinking and doing drugs. That's the first step. Oh wait, the first step is to admit that you're powerless. Oh well.

Sometimes I think you shouldn't post deep felt nastiness on live journal. Then again, you get feedback from numerous people and start to feel like you're not that bad. Thanks everybody.

Still alive and kicking. Will go out dancing tonight at the Vogue after playing a little pool at the Mercury. Although since I haven't been crying all day I don't know that I'll be playing all that fabulously.


I'll give the St. John's Wort a little time to work. Try to stay occupied until then. I can only deal with my personal demons so much. Food is cooking.

The mentor loaned me a book called Fermata by Nicholson Baker. He says it's of the erotic type that I might enjoy. After I read that I should hit the used book store and try to get a hold of some more Henry Miller. The haphazard rambling style and the simple joys contained therein make me happy. Even if he's kind of a misogynist. In some ways so am I but only against the women embodying everything I hate about the female stereotype. The female friends I have don't really do this. There's a type I used to refer to as "Poodle Girls". The ones that never try to break out of the shopping, man-worshipping, gotta find a mate now, jealous, gossiping, victim-perpetuating, I-make-less-money-than-your-average-man-for-a-reason, Ally McBeal watching, sex-is-bad-and-should-be-used-as-a-commodity stereotype.

Ooh. Food's ready.


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October 2002

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