So often it seems that I fear life more than I fear death. I do not think I fear death at all, but rather that I do not want to die so young. I generally relish in the unknown. Well, in theory, living in the unknown is scary. I cannot stop eating these Triscuits. The new, flavoured ones are exceptional. Chocolate hazelnut tea. I want to love a man, yet know it is not the right time or place. I want fresh fruit. An apple tree in my apartment, yes. Cookies and cream.
Getting lost in Facebook. It’s so easy to feel like a failure. It’s easier to feel like a failure than to hold yourself responsible to your skills, accomplishments, goals, etc. It’s easier to surrender to the whirlwinds of grief and hopelessness than to stand tall in a storm. Triscuits, guide me, safely down the path of well being. Ice cream. French fries. This desire to feel love through ingesting various substances. It’s true, eating yummy things kind of feels like affection. It’s not real, but I can’t afford a dog. Or a hamster. And fish, well, they’re great, but I don’t know if they love. Fucking love hamsters. So fucking cute. Did Dostoevsky like hamsters? Who knows. Did he like cute animals? I want to know.