I think I might be going through something. This bridge of time that I fight every year and fail against. Perhaps I need to just accept that I am always going to be sucked into the undertoad, as it were. I’m always going to be thrown overboard. Reach exceeding grasp.
I have a headache. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. Last night a woman I did not see but heard, kept banging and trying to get into our house until we called the police. I didn’t fall properly back to sleep until it was far too late. I feel, actually, like hell. From the carbs, of course, and my usual weird desire to just fuck everything over until it is entirely beyond recognition.
I think my Valentine’s Day present from the guy who is not my boyfriend, but he is – even if he isn’t, and if he isn’t, I definitely don’t want him to be – will be a used D&D book. This is sweet and good and kind, but I have a headache and actually, writing that out makes me want to set the world on fire.
I have been reading all sorts of travel materials about Porquerolles. It would make for a great honeymoon spot. Provided you could get your imaginary husband to leave the house.
Everything is garbage and shit and I want it to stop. I have done no other writing.