I wake up early now, and my heart is in the day. I feel alive, then.

Yet as the day wears on I find my thoughts grow darker, and my hope hardly existent. Yeah, I'm being melodramatic, because I'm really feeling that way. Moody.

Sometimes I'm really not sure who the girl is standing in front of the mirror. She doesn't look like me, or aspire to the things I'd always wanted. So I sit, with my head cradled in my hands. Staring at the monitor, or the lamp, or the window. Just waiting for these moments to pass. I feel so detached. Isolated, but too uninspired to talk, meet with friends, dream a little.

I miss Kel, I miss the energy of our conversations. I miss feeling talented, interesting, having things to talk about. I try to remember what it was like to feel creative and pretty. I worry that girl, the one I was... is slipping away.

Almost famous

My sister writes the most amazing stories. To convince her that she is indeed quote worthy I'll share a favorite nibble of one of her fabulous tales...

"She only broke out the lemon icing when she felt she was swimming in seriously choppy waters. Lemon icing was reserved for inconsolable children and small cracks that surface in good friendships." ~ Bobbie K. ~

I'm a creep

I haven't posted for so long. Mostly, I've been busy procrastinating (haha) at cute overload cooing and awing my day away.

I'm down for the count with a cold and stupidly took a cough suppressant, giving a serotonin syndrome like experience. Oops. Actually it reminds me of antidepressants withdrawal which is sooo odd. My vision is choppy, I can't move or I get dizzy, and most of all the shoom-shooms (I call them this because it's a strange feeling in the head that reminds me of a car whizzing by at close range) add to my cold symptoms.

I also had the worst dream. A different twist but still the same outcome. I just read an article that over-dreaming and depression are significantly linked. Tell me about it. They just make me hate myself more, so then I have to spend the waking part of the day trying to convince myself that life isn't hopeless. Dreary, indeed.

Even more pleasant... My pooches got into the garbage to the point there was nothing left in the trash bag. Haha mommy, sooo funny. Argg! Boy, I just love cleaning messes up more than once, don't you?