Everything is a titanic struggle.

Everything is a titanic struggle. Reading books, listening to music even watching movies puts a strain on my brain. I can’t piece things together like I used to. I can’t manage my responsibilities. Paying a cell phone bill seems inordinately complex, and it’s not due now anyways. I’m alone except for Gracie and her presence weighs on me. She’s just a beagle but I feel like I’m under some kind of pressure to keep her alive. She follows me everywhere around the house. The action I put the most thought into is guessing when I might run into someone else and how to avoid them.

I can’t do anything. I just think of all the things I’ve never accomplished…or that even if you add up my meager accomplishments they add up to the empty, useless shell that I am now. I feel so alone. I don’t want to talk to any friends. I wish I felt like doing something. But like everything I mismanage it is well begun and ends half-done.

I’ve thought about Kathy the past couple of days, and how I’d like to read her journals. I want to read how much she hated or loved me. I want to understand what made her work. I want her mom to know how much I cared about Kathy and that given the same opportunities I’d do it differently. And my dad, I let him down too. Yeah, they were both idiots doing whatever they did that brought an end to their lives but that doesn’t mean my weakness should be forgotten or forgiven.

I have managed to wash clothes. I guess personal hygiene will always retain its proper place no matter how fucked up I get. Listening: Elegia - New Order