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dumptruck

Ive been really clumsy lately. breaking class, then cutting myself with it trying to clean up. knocking things over, dropping things, slipping. it's really frustrating. i think it comes with stress. like there's a problem syncing my mind and my body and it's resulting in miscommunications to my fingers and lots of broken things. I was always that kid who'd spill her glass of water at the restaurant. the hopeless case at times. it's frustrating. because the more it happens the worse i feel, the worse i feel the more it happens.
I'm in a funk. things affect me so much, and I've been overloaded with food for thought lately. the drummer of the KGB has waning interest, and I really don't want to see them compromised, the KGB is such a good band, and it means so much to Scott, and by association, me.
and of course, Kaeleigh is now the mother of a healthy baby girl, Aurora. It wont hit me until I meet her, and that most likely wont be for quite a while. Everything is happening all around me, and I'm sitting still, surrounded by it all. I feel like such a bum right now. Sweats and a flannel plaid shirt, slumped on my bed in my dirty room with my laptop. When I start to feel sorry for myself, then it starts to get bad. I can't do that to myself, but it's so god damned alluring.
I need to do something artistic. I need to write a poem, paint a picture, play music, or dance my heart out. I have so many options for artistic voice but i haven't really committed to anything. Art projects bloom in my mind and rarely every make it to the physical world. I have the beginnings of a painting sitting on my floor that's been doing just that, sitting, for weeks. I've written two good poems lately, but cant write anything new that I can bring into my poetry class and work on proffesionally. I got a piano book for christmas and havent opened it since.
ugh. ok, computer, you hopeless little screen, time to get turned off so i can do something productive, and get my hands dirty with paint.


I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me

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