Monday, March 28, 2011

10 Reasons I Need To Get The Fuck Out

1.) Every day I want to kill my roommate a little bit more than I did the day before.
2.) I need four real seasons. This past Saturday's weather in Austin = overcast morning, sunny/HOT afternoon, light shower in the early evening giving way to disgusting mugginess, then fucking cold at night. Weekend = mid-90s. Today = mid-50s. I HATE THIS SHITTY, UNPREDICTABLE/NONSENSICAL WEATHER.
3.) I am a criminal, an anorectic, a heroin addict, a high school/college dropout, and/or a bad memory at best in this town. I want to be ME.
4.) I hate everyone here. Period. I'm a snob; over-alls and a full set of teeth do not comprise the height of sophistication for me. Sorry, dooders.
5.) Traffic has pushed me almost to the point of being homicidal.
6.) I've seen all the people and all the crap this shit hole has to offer (and it's not much). Due to this, I constantly think I see people I know (whether it actually is them or not) and every single time it happens, my stomach churns. I almost puked when I saw Erica at ACL. Yeh, time to go!
7.) Leslie Rebecca McJunkin.
8.) My hero a.k.a. Momy.
9.) I fucking deserve it.
10.) I see her everywhere.





Saturday, March 19, 2011

it kills me to tear us apart...



I had the saddest, most meaningful and helpful and honest conversation with my father tonight.
I cried so much.

I've been at Jacob's for almost two hours and he's been asleep the whole time.
I was sitting up on his bed crying for about 45 minutes.


I miss my sister.

I hate spring time.

Rebirth.
New life.
Season of love and procreation and blah blah blah.
Fuck it all. I hate it all.

My dad found me in the kitchen, waiting for my Amy's Brown Rice & Vegetables Bowl dinner to finish heating in the microwave, drinking a Lone Star 16 oz at 11:00-ish the other night and laughed, "Marissa!  Lone Star beer? I didn't know you were drinking..... this." I thought he was going to be mad at me. But he just smiled, laughed, and shook his head slightly.. at my drink of choice, not the fact that I was drinking at all.
I like this honesty we have between us now.

I still don't like this time of year.

How is it that the most comforting thing that's been said to me while I've been sobbing over the last 5.5 hours came via text message from a guy I barely know who I've only hung out with once [outside of class] and is in Padre?
What kind of back-ass-wards nonsense is it that the people who know the least are the best at making me smile in my darkest states?

Jacob just stirred.
I should get in bed.







Friday, March 4, 2011

let her be

I had a minor freak-out last night.
I saw my sister in my mirror.
I still can't look directly into my own eyes in the mirror today, and I couldn't look at the mirror AT ALL for the rest of last night - I shielded the side of my face when I had to pass it to go pee so that I couldn't even see it in my peripheral vision.
I can't explain what happened - I just cannot put it into words. Shitty feeling for a goddamn English major.
Maybe with time.
I've been having mini anxiety/panic attacks for a little over 24 hours.
That was the only full-blown one I within these past a-little-over 24 hours.
I'm shaky.