crying myself to sleep feels good

Asit spoke of day's-end entries being best for analysis, and as I sit here I realize that I only generally update at night when I'm intoxicated, thereby shifting analysis to the morning once again.

So here's the analysis: For an entire week I've had an increasing depression whose onset seemed to coincide with the hangover from the Yeah Yeah Yeah's concert.

I have issues with boys.

Issues with school.

Issues with money.

Issues with where to live.

My analysis?

these are exactly the problems from which I routinely suffered as an undergraduate and are therefore nothing new or extraordinary and I refuse to dishonor my intelligence with mundane and tired grievances

Regardless, I have fought back tears all day long.

My girls were here and brought me close to crying, but we're all exhausted. So I cooked, and we ate and laughed some and listened to the loverly girls speak of their lovers.

They left and I called three friends, then I got tired of trying.

I don't trust myself very much right now, though. But I like my new stapler.

My inner-child is screaming for me to "REVERT!!" and she finds solace in recalling her intimacy with Tylere. I'm lonely, but me and my plant are still alive.

At least my being is not as sad as Joe's - and I do pity him. As he sat next to me in class I realized he hasn't dressed himself nicely in months (very unlike him; he's a frat-boy-style button-down and jeans with gelled-hair, like Asit). His hair is getting shaggy and he wears such dark clothing. As he sniffled and sneezed I thought about his pathetic email to me, detailing what a bad friend he is and how I can't change him.

"The less you need me the better friends we can be," he said.

Then I thought about my response. It was calm and understanding: "These things you say about yourself come as no surprise to me. I know you're a bad friend. I don't want your time, just smile."

He smiles so deliberately now, and seems so poor in his spirit. He's caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror, I think, and is a little frightened that he's *SO COMFORTABLE* with the sad-bastard he encountered therein.

So I pity him. He could do good.

I do not pity myself. But I am reeling right now from the blow that my life is to me right now.

I recall a spring of three years ago where I stated...

there must be a better word than "depressed" to describe how I feel...I am compelled to use "stunned" because it implies that my circumstances came with undetected force -- and not necessarily no detection at all -- and that I am only temporarily imobilized.

I agree with myself.