Larl Larl Buleeya

Tuesday, July 14, 2020

You know what's the one thing I absolutely hate about myself? 

Pulling my cheeks and rubbing my hands all over my fucking face repeatedly. How I rub my hands on my face at heightened anxiety and then the fingers gravitate towards my cheeks. Grazing, teasing them with my nails. I feel it needs filing but who will reach the drawer for the filer. Might as well just use hands. Oops, too long a sliver. Let's use teeth. Oops, I've accidentally chewed 8 out of 10 fingernails and now onwards my skin. Shit, it's 6 pm, should I cook dinner. No, it's too early. I can sneak in an episode of Schitt's Creek. At 6:20, my heart will be full cause Johnny Rose had a family that failed him at Christmas. He's lost everything and can't even get Christmas. Oh man, should I get to the remaining two nails? No, let's get water. I finished a bottle today. Fuck, not watching Schitt's Creek for another week. WHY IS STEVIE CRYING OH GOD DON'T CRY I WILL CRY. Oh man, Johnny Rose is so happy. I want to be happy. I think I'll be happy when I get those earrings. Those earrings cost more than I made this month so maybe not. Is this what it has come down to? Looking at the price tag before buying things I've no place to wear. Ugh, these will sell out. Okay, get water, and wait until tomorrow. There'll be cake and you can eat sugar and think if you need those earrings. Why do I not own anything holographic? I never bought myself a holographic backpack or nail paint and now I can't get these earrings. Wait, let's check if the crush has texted. He hasn't, perfect. I won't text him. I won't text him ever. He can go take a hike. Should I make dinner? It's 6:30. Yeah, okay, maybe pasta? No, too many carbs. I barely ate any carbs for lunch so maybe. EAT CARBS. It's not like you're doing anything in life that's making you happy. Oh god, will I ever make money again? I'm good for nothing, I know nothing, I used to know something. People wanted me. People sought me. Men sought me. Even my nails look like shit. I can't write. Oh man let me rub my hands all over my face and try and pluck my lips off. Let me graze my cheeks, shit my nails hurt, I chewed too much.

(Title track; anxiety shooting through the roof)

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