A dramatic form that does not observe the laws of cause and effect and that exaggerates emotion...

I admit that I am ridiculous. Okay? I admit it.

Take this past week, for example. It was a bad week from the first few seconds I opened my eyes Monday morning, and it didn’t let up the whole time. I was filled with overwhelming anxiety and doubt. This is pretty much the stuff I was anxious and doubtful about:

1. I will never, ever get a job.

2. I will never, ever have health insurance again.

3. Because I will never, ever get a job and never, ever have health insurance again I will lose what is left of my mind and end up wandering the streets, wild-eyed and ranting, and giving blowjobs for crack, turkey sandwiches, and cups of coffee.

4. I am crazy.

5. I am a fundamentally unlovable person.

6. Because I am a crazy and fundamentally unlovable person I will die alone, and should I somehow manage to bypass #1 and #2 and get a job and health insurance, I will die alone in a scary house on a hill with a bunch of pets as opposed to alone in the street.

You get the idea.

I called friends. I drank much alcohol and called friends. I took long, meandering walks. I called friends after drinking much alcohol and while taking long, meandering walks.

I used a lot of analogies for myself: a piece of driftwood on the ocean! A sinking bag of stones! A horse with no name! (Okay, I didn’t use that last one.)

I bemoaned that I had nowhere to go, nothing to do, and that if I disappeared tomorrow no one would notice for days.

I laid on the floor of my shower and let the water run over me. I laid in the backyard staring upward. I laid with my head under pillows in my bed.

I posted blogs only to take them down again because they were too intensely dark and personal.

I cried. About everything. Yesterday I cried when some school kids made fun of a ranting homeless man (that will be me one day, after all) and I cried when a different group of school kids made fun of one of the little girls in their group and wouldn’t talk to her or sit with her on the bus.

Fuck school kids.

Fuck my amplified emotions.

Fuck me.

I am pleased to announce what seems to be a break in the aforementioned ridiculousness. I hope this break lasts a long fucking time.

I’m surprised my wonderful friends still answer their phones.