I think that somewhere down the line, my entries will take on a color theme, but for now I am just using this word to describe how I feel. It’s like a deep down Miles Davis kind of a weary blues. My outlet tonight is a blue volcanic flame burning away at hollowness. I have been struggling with this feeling of sadness for a long time. It’s like when you’re a kid in school and no one is picking you to be on their kickball team. All the popular girls turn their backs on you, whipping their ponytails in your face. And, really they are not mean girls. You’re just delusional about being one of them. This week has been a cosmic hormonal hurricane and it feels like the constellation of zits on your face has become the eye of the storm to make you feel down and out. The cure is :
a) slit your wrists
b) deface the facebook page of your long lost 2nd grade best friend
c) write nonsense poetry about being miserychick that you ripped off an old edgar allen poe poem
d) prescription valium that the you got from the valley of the dolls girl down the hall from your dorky freshman year roomate
e) phone call the rents’
f) all of the above
Sanster
