It is 3:48 a.m. on a weekend morning. I’m not sure if it’s Sunday or Monday but it doesn’t really matter because every day is Sunday or MOnday to me.
For the past couple of months I have been in a stupendous depression. I am not really sure what caused it but I suppose about two or three variables that could be involved.
Me and him have not spoken all week. I’m sure to hear it told to one of his buddies out of his own mouth it would sound like chinese to me. None of it would be intelligible, that is unless I spoke Mandarin or Cantonese….and you never know, one of those is on my bucket list.
I had my first sip of drink in over a week earlier this evening. I say “this evening” but I think the sip which was granted to me as a full-fledged DRINK was poured after midnight.
I ain’t drunk.
I ain’t buzzed.
it’s 4:10 a.m. now.
I am not mad about being ignored. I never was. I did nothing to be ignored. The only thing I did was ask my partner of 6 years some questions about some weird shit on his bank statement and he made it into a whole thing so he could ignore me, I suppose.
I turned 42 this past Monday. I have had a pretty strong feeling for several years that life is going to change at 42. My birthday is 4-2. If you google forty-two, here’s what you find: PURE BADDASSERY You’ll also find THIS.
I’ve been so depressed since Christmas I haven’t cared much for hygiene, but on my birthday, since I was being ignored anyway, I took the first selfies I’ve taken in a hundred years.
Wanna see? I’m gonna show you anyway because clearly I’m sober.