Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Blame the chicken

Yesterday was a really horrible horrible bad day.

things were kind of greyish and OK, and after a day ff pointless onanistic gloom I decided to push myself under the shower and then head off on a long stride into uni to prepare the art and mayhem segment - which I strode up to UTS to deliver.

Daz and I chatted about ladypain and lady gloom in between track changes and the segment - and then I headed off, ostensibly to get some vegan junkfood in the form of deep fried tofu with peanut sauce (its the elvis version of TOFU and it costs $4). STUPIDLY however, I decided to go all random and adventurous and attempt something new.

I'm not usually a chicken eater - but thought a big bowl of chicken soup wiht noodles and green things might be good for my b-vitamin count and decided to lash out $8.
And then (5 minutes later) I was brought:
a thin plastic bowl with some instant noodles, dried spirng onion, a lettuce leaf, dried mushrooms, and dried savoury cornflake things
And a a sperate bowl with some water

My jaw hit the floor and I stupidly dragged the thing back to my seat and sat silently injesting msg and palm oil with a modicum of soya lethicin modified hydrongenase.... BLEEEAHAAAAHGGGGHHHH!!!!

then felt so depressed that I went to bread story next door and bought more shitty fluffy overpriced junk food, (but durian flavoured - just to get rid of the scary msg taste) and then staggered acrosss the road an caught a bus home.
hit the hay -
- hay smelling futon

Injesting bread story cconfectionary induced a sugar rush which slid into a big fat trough by the time my bus reached home - so I collapsed somnambulant for an hour or two.

then woke up to hell and gloom.

rang my mum and mumbled monosyllables while she breathlessly babbled utter bullshit. Ignored other phone ringing later -wwhihc tunred out to be Abel, ringing from chez maman at lunch. Her mum has been sending me texts and my stomach churns thinking of Abel with her girlie - and fuck I wish I didn't have to see her face ever again.

things are unspeakably bad -when I can spend 5 hours on the SODUKO in an old copy of MX

How am I meant to write a PhD with this brain?

It was all horrible horrible horrible, wanted to die, wanted to sink through the ground - didn't even want to kill 5 people first - just wanted to evaporate.

I even seriously considered going to queensland.

what brought this on?

I'd had a weekend of overnurturing - playing host and tourist guide and endlessly washing dishes sheets for a bunch of , well one was an old school frined, the others were her friends - and i swear that was really really dumb thing of me to do - and I hope I don't do it again in the next 10 years.
It made me feel exhausted, empty and bored, and a bit pannicky.
I don't need anyone's approval that much

this of course being the weekend - after abel left the country. and letting her back in my life before hand was also extrmely dumb and I am now going through the same old hell I went through in march - of separation. She's happpy living 2 contradicotry realities - the life with me as her wife - and her real passionate fantasy world of SLUT - and fuck only knows who else. sure she has to be pissed most of her life in order to do it but she can still do it.

I was sooooo happy - a light delusional joy when she grovelled and moved back in a fortnight before her departure, swearing she'd give up the grog and calling SLUT while under the same roof. she stayed grog free for 4 days, and kept her finger moving over her phone keypad everywhere, in conversation, in the car, at the dinner table. constantly

how could I be so stupid?

After sitting crouched over the computer with hell gut pains at 4am - writing misspelt missives on lists and incurring wrath of some freak (who lives around the corner) upon my poor eardrums, - I crawled into her bed, for chaste cuddles and sweet slumber for 3 hours before our neighbour woke her up to drive her to the airport.

i'm still in love with her, she wants to fuck me, and I fell fucked by her, fucked over. this is all just fucked

Note to self: don't let her ever stay another night under the same roof with me

the day she left - I went and saw a counsellor, had a shiatsu and then got involuntarily screamed at for 15 minutes by some freaky 'activist' type - whose out to solve the middle east peace process by her highly developed skillls in rhetoric and diplomacy. GOD PLEASE LET HER GET HIT WIHT A SKUD I prayed while backing away

Ohhh god doesn't exist and if he does he's certainly not on my side

Note to self: must cancel registration for queer collaborations. I thought it might be a strategy for desperate damsel wooing - but err..... god...... pathcouli, activists and their lack of humour, that abstracted idealism, innappropriate and unmananged anger projected onto the revolution or veganism or some other poor bastards sorry fucked up life or god only knows what and really poor social skills, YUCKKKKKKK.

I'm not twenty and can't be drunk enough to pretend I am anymore.

and the conference website is one of the most patronising things I've encountered in a long time.

I am too old for this
too sober

adding to gloom

and then yesterday was my brother's birthday - and I've decided that if I have any say in my death that I'll try to arrange it on my birthday - so there's only one day of hopeless incomparable sadness for my family to deal with each year instead of two.

so today, I've washed a lot of sheets, and vacuumed the house, and stuffed myself with pumpkin soup and had a shiatsu and barely left the house and I feel safe and warm and well cared for and I'm going to engage in some trivial part of the thesis work rather than some large amorphous imaginative chunk whee I have to face my own doubts about everything and the HELLISH CHASM WITHIN in order to pull something out of my arse.

Pity coz I've got a conference paper to give in a fortnight - based on a chapter that I haven't written


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