dissatisfaction

every once and a while i'll think to myself "what is this life of mine?". i wonder about how i wound up here and who i am that i'm satisfied to wake up to go nowhere every day. i wonder what happened to europe; my dreams of strolling down a cobbled road with a man whose language means nothing to me. what came of my aspirations to sing the highests notes to crowds of millions acting as though the acclamation was insignificant. where, now, are the million dollar pay checks i had banked on and my chanel handbags i was going to carry? can pussed nodual cysts on ones vocal chords really tranform a life like this? i mindfully revisit the months before the demise of my only-imagined career. was it the immature man i was dating whose love turned me suicidal that took it all away? was it that i cut myself to feel and when i didn't i created a grandiose version of myself who was unstoppable and crazed? had i lost all self respect, letting my sickness (throat and mind) be my ticket to give up?

i wake up and do not shower. i dress. i feed my cat. mundanity. i brush my teeth. i drive my car. i get to work. i work. i smoke smoke smoke. i come home from work. i kiss my husband. i watch tv. i eat a donut. i go to bed. mundanity.

i am constantly striving to get out. i hate who i am and what i do. i am enthralled and in love with the lives of celebrities for they give me some insight into a life better than this. where work is to help something and not pay a car bill. i don't want to fight for myself anymore. i don't want to FIGHT! i am not a surrenderer, and yet somehow, i have surrendered.

2006-01-24, 6:58 p.m.
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