09.28.03 :: 11:14 am

Why do I even let myself out of the house anymore?

In what appears to be yet another instance of the cosmos making fun of me, I ended up hanging out with a bunch of friends, including Eric, who, by the end of the night, was treating me like utter garbage.

And I mean it was surreal. And painful, to be perfectly honest. So I made up some excuse around 2 am and left the bar.

Upon turning the corner and walking down a block, I run right into Simon, he of the inexplicable disappearance and giver of sadness, making out with a girl on the street.

OK, I thought. This is the point in my life where a camera light falls down at my feet from above and I notice a tear in what should be the sky.

At that single moment, I felt so sad and so lonely and so something that I needed to call someone. And the only person I could think to call, of course, was my ex. Who was on a date with his whore.

I put myself to bed after a particularly idiotic cab ride that featured me weeping silently into my hands like a little girl, and woke up today to a downpour.

I'm not letting myself out of the house for a while. I have completely lost faith in people. And I need to regroup or something.

It's probably too late to call Mark and ask him if there's an extra seat on the flight to Tibet.

And given the inexplicably shitty way things have been going as of late, I wouldn't be surprised if he told me to fuck off.

I'm going to fry a pound of bacon and wallow in bed, eating it.

earlier / next