I\’m convinced that the doctors are confused; my ear drums weren\’t perforated over the weekend. What has in fact happened, is that my brain has started to rot. It is now leaking out my nose and ears. This is what is causing the swelling, pain, and disgusting mess that has warranted the prescriptions of Prednisone, Tylenol #3 (w/ Codeine), 1600mg of IB Profen a day, antibiotics, etcetera, etcetera. But the reason these things aren\’t helping is because the infection isn\’t really bacterial: there\’s nothing actually wrong with my lungs, sinuses, or ears. The problem is intangible; something in my brain is sick. My soul is starved for stimulus. I\’m rotting for lack of activity.
This setting is not conducive to recovery, either. A house arrest is not necessary, but a quarantine is — on other people.
What was I saying again?
I am so off track. I don\’t even know at what point I fell off.
This past year has been such a waste. It flew by at a quick pace, with me always feeling like I was never going to be able to catch up. Do I have one thing from this past year that I can be proud of that is actually mine? I got my Section 8 voucher by luck, so I\’m not counting my having my own home.
It hasn\’t been a bad year, not at all. Not in the sense of, \”I\’ve been miserable,\” or lots of bad things have happened. It\’s just been a wasted year. A year of fucking around, and mostly not even in a good way — not even in a \”now I\’m having some fun\” sort of way. A year to learn lessons, I suppose, though I don\’t feel like I\’ve learned many things. If anything, I feel more lost than this time last year, and I feel like I\’m apt to make the same mistakes over again. And I feel like my mind is punishing me for wasting its potential (as well it should).
My ears are so clogged, all day long I can hear my heart beating. It\’s a constant reminder that I\’m here, so I should be doing something. It\’s disturbing, that reminder; I\’m so used to being able to disappear, even from myself.